Brave New World
by Brainlock
Summary: When Claire Bennet revealed herself to the world, the ramifications set into motion plans that were never expected. Who will rise? Who will fall? Who will survive the trials she has set them on?
1. Ch0  Previously on Heroes

HEROES - Volume 6: Brave New World

A/N: trying to get this out before s5/v6 happens or NOT. It's what *I* want to see happen, after discussing it to death on IMDb boards. This chapter is just a reminder of who's who, what's what and whatnot.

Disclaimer: just playing with Tim Kring's toys. I own no recognizable character in the Heroes-verse. this is just a refresher on certain details of the series, so far.

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><p>Previously on Heroes:<p>

**PETER PETRELLI**, an EMT in New York City with the ability of empathic ability mimicry (previously copying abilities by proximity, after briefly losing his power to his father, Peter now requires touching other specials and can only hold ability one at a time). After Peter learned his brother, **Nathan**, died while stopping **Sylar** from impersonating the President, their own mother, **Angela Petrelli**, and **Noah Bennet **convinced **Matt Parkman **to reprogram Sylar into thinking he was Nathan for several months before a murder attempt forced Sylar's body to revert to it's original, albeit amnesiac, state. When "Nathan" finally regained control, he sought out Peter for help. They tracked down Matt Parkman after **Rene aka the Haitian** told Peter where to find Nathan's real body. Afterward, the pair confronted their mother on Thanksgiving as to what was really going on, and Sylar assumed control of his body once more. Peter and Sylar eventually wound up locked in Sylar's head for what they believed to be years, during which time Sylar and Peter came to terms with each other. The two allied to stop **Samuel Sullivan**'s plan of destroying Central Park and exposing "Specials" like themselves as a new wave of terrorism.

During this time, Peter also began seeing **Emma Coolidge**, a deaf former medical student who dropped out after her nephew Christopher accidentally drowned while she was watching him. She opened up to Peter after he accidentally copied her "enhanced synesthesia" ability when she was almost hit by a bus. She also befriended **Hiro Nakamura **while he was in her care with a brain tumor. Her mother, Louise, is also a doctor at the same hospital Emma has been working at in the records division. *(A/N: Louise Fletcher's character was never given a formal name, so I gave her her real name. It was either that or Nurse Mildred Ratched! lol! H'wiki also notes the "Chris Coolidge" the **Company Founders **meet in 1963 in online GNs was her musician brother.)

**MATT PARKMAN**, second generation telepath and former LAPD and briefly NYPD detective, and son of Company Founder **Maury Parkman**, tried to leave events of the last few years behind him (including his separation from his wife, and his brief affair with the speedster **Daphne Millbrook**, before her death and the murder of his father by Arthur Petrelli) and return to his wife,** Janice**, and young son, **Matthew, Jr**, but he found out it wasn't so easy when he realized he had absorbed Sylar's psyche, which nearly cost him his family life before sacrificing himself through "suicide by cop" to rid the world of Sylar's influence and keep him from reuniting with his true body, posing as Nathan Petrelli. Noah Bennet later requested his help in tracking a suspect, Samuel Sullivan, only to lose both Sullivan and his quarry. Shortly after, Sylar returned, asking to be rid of his abilities, threatening not only Matt, but Janice's life if he didn't help. Matt trapped him in his own mind just as Peter Petrelli arrived to recruit Sylar's assistance against Sullivan and became trapped in Sylar's mind as well. At the same time, the multiplying man, Eli, invaded Matt's home and nearly crippled him in an effort to delay Peter from rescuing Sylar and together stop his employer, Samuel Sullivan. The trio defeated Eli and his clones, with Matt commanding the original Eli to come clean about Sullivan's intentions to the other Carnival denizens in order to help stop his plan.

Matt's son, **Matthew, Jr**, previously displayed the ability to affect electronics and turn abilities on and off, depending on the toddler's moods, but has not displayed any obvious uses of these abilities since his father has returned to his life. Whether this ability was brought about by the lack of his father's presence (he identified Matt Sr on a news broadcast, despite never having met him), or some other reason, is unknown at this time. The abilities seem to have returned to a dormant state. It is also unknown if he was able to discern when Sylar controlled Matt Sr, or if Sylar (or Matt) was able to manipulate the child into being unable to access the abilities until he was mature enough to control them.

**SYLAR aka GABRIEL GRAY**, former watch repairman and second generation serial killer of Specials like himself, had found himself robbed of his identity after killing **Nathan Petrelli**, he was only able to survive by transferring the darker aspect of his psyche into Matt Parkman's mind as his body was convinced it was the now deceased Senator from New York. When "Nathan" suddenly remembered (due to Sylar's stolen ability of psychometry) he was involved in a tragic accident with an old "runaway" girlfriend, he went to make amends with his late girlfriend's mother, Millie (a friend of Angela's). In revenge, she hired a hit man to dispose of Nathan. Sylar's body revived, thanks to previously copying Claire Bennet's regenerative ability, but was left amnesiac thanks to Matt's tampering. Found by Samuel Sullivan and his traveling carnival after escaping Baltimore police custody, he was welcomed with open arms by the devious ringmaster. However, only Nathan's memories returned due to Parkman's reprogramming, and he soon left to confront his mother about what had happened to him. Tracking down Parkman after the attempted "suicide by cop" to stop Sylar in Midland, TX, Sylar was able to finally regain control of his body over Nathan. Peter tried to convince the remnants of Nathan's memories he could overpower Sylar, but Sylar proved to be master of his own body. However, the influence of being in Parkman's mind and living as Petrelli did have an effect on Sylar. After returning to the Sullivan Brothers Carnival and copying **Lydia**'s empathy, he briefly pursued an understanding with Claire Bennet, only to be rebuffed. He returned to Los Angeles and convinced Matt Parkman to turn his abilities off. After Sylar threatened his family, Matt locked him inside his own mind as punishment. Peter went in after him in an effort to get them to help stop Samuel Sullivan from exposing the Specials and destroying everyone in Central Park in the process. Believing he had been trapped, powerless and alone for years, Sylar came to the realization that playing the villain was no longer what he wanted to do. He helped Peter stop Samuel, rescuing Emma from the puppet master **Eric Doyle**'s control and watched, amused, as their lives changed forever on live television alongside Peter.

**MOHINDER SURESH**, a geneticist following in his father, Chandra's, footsteps in the search for understanding the genetic quirks that give people amazing abilities. To that end, he experimented on himself, using a crude "Formula" made from the "black poison" tears of Maya Herrerra, eventually resulting in enhanced strength and agility after a brief psychotic phase. He recently uncovered his father's early research at a place called "Coyote Sands" in the early 1960s, which lead to the discovery of a Special born there, **Samuel Sullivan**. Sullivan turned out to be a geokinetic, able to move earth with his mind, with the added caveat that the more Specials he was around, the more powerful he could become. His abilities were kept in check by his older brother Joseph until Mohinder arrived to investigate the Samuel on his film. Samuel killed Joseph and believed he had killed Mohinder in order to obtain Chandra's filming of his own birth, but was thwarted by **Hiro Nakamura**, who briefly detained Mohinder in an asylum to account for a period of time he was "missing." After rebuilding a compass device to track large groups of Specials for **Noah Bennet**, he has decided to leave these discoveries to those who best know how to handle them and returned home to India and his lover, Mira. However, his fate is already entwined with former roommate, Matt Parkman, and their joint guardianship of the young orphan, **Molly Walker**, who has the ability to find anyone, anywhere.

**MOLLY WALKER **was the first known survivor of Sylar's original serial murders. She hid in a room under the stairs of her parents' LA home when Sylar killed her parents using a list of Specials he had obtained from Chandra Suresh which included both Molly and her father, James (who had been left frozen solid, mid-bite, and scalped). Matt Parkman was assigned to direct traffic around the house when he first manifested his telepathic ability and heard her cries for help. Despite a house full of cops and FBI agents, Matt was the first one to find the missing, scared girl. Matt was then briefly arrested as "Sylar" by **FBI Agent Audrey Hanson**, but after Sylar made another attempt at Molly in the LAPD station house, he was cleared and she was put into protective custody. Matt lost track of her until they met again in New York City two months later, where she was being held by the Company, suffering from the same illness Mohinder's sister, Shanti, had died of before his birth, and required an occasional transfusion of his blood to stay healthy. She had kept tabs on Matt with her locating ability had dubbed him her "hero". She later convinced Mohinder to take her and Matt in after he was critically injured at Kirby Plaza fighting Sylar. After a psychic attack by **Maury Parkman **left her briefly comatose, and yet another home invasion by Sylar, Mohinder sent her to his mother in India for safety. Presumably, she has remained there since with the exception of briefly assisting **Micah Sanders**' "Rebellion" during Nathan Petrelli's federally backed round-up of Specials.

**HIRO NAKAMURA**, CEO of Yamagato Industries (in name only, as his sister, **Kimiko**, actually runs the business), after his father, **Kaito**'s, murder at the hands of the immortal **Adam Monroe** (a crime investigated by then-NYPD Detective Matt Parkman). After inadvertently causing the release of a secret Special "Formula" that granted abilities (including Ando) and a brief internment by US Federal authorities, Hiro has decided to rethink the "superhero" lifestyle. He set up "Dial-A-Hero" with his friend, **Ando Masahashi**, to try and do some good in the world when he learned he had an allegedly inoperable brain tumor. His space-time ability (and mental faculties) went temporarily haywire because of this condition, yet he was still sucked into the schemes of Samuel Sullivan; nearly lost the love of his life, Charlie, to the past after convincing a still-neophyte Sylar to cure her fatal blood clot; and still saving Mohinder Suresh from being killed by Sullivan, only to briefly place him in an asylum for "safekeeping" to preserve the space-time continuum. He was finally able to overcome his condition when doctors in New York were able to remove the tumor in time for Hiro to bid his now-elderly love Charlie goodbye and help stop Sullivan's plan of destroying Central Park and exposing Specials to the world.

**ANDO MASAHASHI**, best friend of Hiro and betrothed to **Kimiko Nakamura**, stood by his friend's side through the years, including while he dealt with his near-fatal tumor. His life was changed by Hiro when, in order to set things "right", a childhood accident caused by Hiro in their youth that turned Kimiko against his affections, never happened and he is now engaged to be married to the female CEO. Ando later used his Formula-supplied super-charging ability to help Hiro transfer the denizens of the Sullivan Bros. Carnival out of the amplifying sphere of influence Samuel Sullivan was tapping into, thus helping save Central Park and their exposure as Specials, but only briefly.

**TRACY STRAUSS**, former lobbyist and one identical triplet to the late multiple personality Special **Niki (aka Jessica aka Gina) Sanders**. She only learned of her past after being confronted as her Las Vegas look-alike's online stripping (of which Ando was a fan) and accidentally freezing the reporter who confronted her in the first manifestation of her ability. She was briefly the lover of Nathan Petrelli before he died (as was Niki), and is now searching for a purpose to her life and the reason she has the ability to freeze things as well as become pure water, herself. She was briefly held prisoner by Nathan's underling **Emile Danko** (whose underlings she took upon herself to later execute after nearly being killed by them), before being called upon to help free the trapped Noah and Claire Bennet from being buried underground so they could stop Samuel Sullivan, who previously tried to sway her to help others like herself. Whether she has decided to locate her missing triplet, **Barbara Zimmerman**, remains unknown.

**MICAH SANDERS **is the son of the late **DL Hawkins **and Niki Sanders. His innate intelligence with computers soon manifested as technopathy, meaning he could "talk" to almost any kind of machine. Following his father's murder while retrieving one of his wife's wayward multiple personalities (Gina), Niki decided to seek out help for her condition(s) and left him in the care of family in New Orleans, DL's aunt and matriarch **Nana Dawson **and her grandchildren, **Monica and Damon Dawson**. (Their mother having apparently died during Hurricane Katrina.) He soon learned Monica had her own ability, photographic reflexes, meaning she could copy whatever normally physical stunt she had seen, from simple tasks to advanced martial arts. This soon found her in trouble, when her brother Damon got mugged and lost Micah's few personal possessions. Micah and a now-powerless Niki tracked her to a house that was set on fire. Niki stopped the arsonist and then sacrificed her own life to allow Monica to escape the conflagration. Micah soon found himself face to face with his mother's sister, when Tracy Strauss came to find Niki, arriving in time for her funeral. He gave her the lead to discover her delivery doctor, **Jonas Zimmerman**, but it is unknown if Micah knows about the third sister, his aunt **Barbara**. He later assisted in the escape of several Specials during Nathan Petrelli's government backed round-up, confounding the conspirators, Petrelli and **Emile Danko **as "**Rebel**" after his remaining family had been taken captive. His current whereabouts are unknown, but he is believed to be assisting his cousin Monica in her vigilante guise of "**St. Joan**" in the New Orleans area, possibly still acting as "Rebel."

**ERIC DOYLE **was the former proprietor of a marionette theatre (since destroyed) who has the power to control others as puppets, himself. He once held an (as yet unexplained) intense infatuation for Claire Bennet's birth mother, **Meredith Gordon**, and once forced Claire and her mothers, Meredith and Sandra Bennet, to play a game of Russian Roulette after escaping from being held prisoner in Level 5 of the Company. Since then, he has attempted to go straight, assisting Claire in eluding a federal round up of Specials (with an assist from double agent, **Rachel Mills**) and briefly assuming a new identity before falling under the sway of Samuel Sullivan, who convinced Doyle he no longer had to hide who he was. Doyle caught Claire snooping at the Carnival and was later tasked with making Emma Coolidge use her ability to draw a large crowd to the Carnival's Central Park location via her cello playing. It is unknown if he was aware of Samuel's fatal plans for the crowd, as he was stopped by Sylar before Peter could defeat Sullivan.

**NOAH BENNET**, a top agent of The Company and adoptive father of Claire Bennet (and **Larry-er, Lyle**!), and now ex-husband of Sandra Bennet. He has been tasked by **Angela Petrelli **to rebuild the Company after recent events. After questioning his worth following his recent separation from his wife, he has finally, begrudgingly, acted on his orders. He was also tasked to stage the death of Nathan Petrelli in a small plane crash that Peter insisted on helping with after his brother's murder had been exposed, so that Nathan's ex-wife, **Heidi**, their sons, **Simon and Monty**, and Nathan's Senate constituency could have closure as well. Noah has since reunited with a former Company associate, **Lauren Gilmore**, who he had a brief flirtation with, and who helped him confront Samuel Sullivan before being wounded herself. She called in Tracy Strauss to extricate the trailer buried by Sullivan containing Noah and Claire Bennet so they could stop him from destroying Central Park and exposing Specials to the world at large as terrorists.

**ANGELA SHAW PETRELLI**, the widow of **Arthur Petrelli **and mother of Peter and the late Nathan. She has the ability of precognitive dreaming. As a child, she and her family were sent to Coyote Sands, where others with special abilities were secretly sent in hopes of finding a cure. However, despite the best intentions of camp doctors Chandra Suresh and Jonas Zimmerman, the military "security" overreacted when her sister, Alice, became upset and caused a sudden storm while being tested. This lead to both sides opening fire and Mr. Shaw being killed in front of his daughter when he used his "shockblast" ability against their captors. Angela had snuck way from the camp to get outside help with **Charles DeVeaux, Daniel Linderman, and Bobby Bishop**, sparing their lives. These four formed the foundation of what would become known as PrimaTech, or simply, the Company, and tasked themselves with searching out others like themselves. At one point, there were **twelve official Founders**, and they fell under the sway of the immortal **Adam Monroe **for a period, before being forced to act to prevent him from unleashing a fatal virus over the world. In recent years, Angela has become the sole surviving Founder and briefly shuttered The Company. She decided to restart the Company following Nathan's death, allowing Noah Bennet to run operations, while she would only advise him, preferring to retire from an active role so she could keep an eye on her grandchildren, Claire, Simon and Monty, following their father's passing. Whether she knew what Claire was going to do remains her secret.

**NATHAN PETRELLI**, the late son of Angela and Arthur Petrelli, husband of Heidi, and father of **CLAIRE! BENNET** (via Meredith Gordon), and **Monty & Simon Petrelli**. He was working with the NYC District Attorney's office investigating Daniel Linderman, when he was nearly killed in an attempted assassination to silence him. His hidden flying ability kicked in, saving his life, but left his wife Heidi crippled until Linderman healed her on election night. He later interrupted his mother's murder attempt on his father, unknowingly saving his life, but Arthur kept his survival a secret for a time, afterward. Nathan was running for a New York City Congressional seat when his brother, Peter, first believed he had gained "super powers"including flight and precognitive dreaming. Nathan kept denying of this aspect of his family until his long-lost daughter convinced him to act to save Peter from destroying the city, which nearly cost him his life. This event, as well as events surrounding the brief return of his father (and a plot to chemically share abilities with the so-called "Formula") led Nathan to turn over evidence of Specials to the US government, unaware they had been aware of such people for decades. Nathan's subordinate, **Emile Danko**, soon took control of the project, abducting Specials and killing when he thought necessary. Nathan and Noah Bennet were finally able to wrest control of the project back, but not before Nathan's abilities were exposed. In an attempt to prevent the assassination of the President, a showdown with Sylar proved fatal for Nathan. However, Angela and Noah persuaded Matt Parkman to convince Sylar to assume the guise of Nathan, locking all but a few abilities away in order to perpetuate the ruse. This plan backfired in two ways: Sylar's psychic invasion of Matt's mind, and the remaining abilities inherent in the gestalt "**Sathan**" personality lead to more questions before he was assassinated in revenge after "remembering" (through a psychometric ability) the accidental death of a long "missing" girlfriend, the daughter of Angela's friend, Millie. The Haitian finally informed Peter (and Sathan) of the whereabouts of the true body of Nathan, revealing Angela's plan and forcing Peter and Noah into faking a plane crash to cover Nathan's death. Peter eventually tried to force Sylar into becoming Nathan for good, but the dominant personality seemingly absorbed the last trace of Nathan, destroying it. Angela continues to watch over his sons, believing one or both to inherit the family's genetic predisposition for abilities.

**RENE aka THE HAITIAN **is tall, dark, and brooding. He is also extremely loyal to Angela Petrelli for undisclosed reasons. This loyalty extends to Claire Bennet and on occasion, Peter Petrelli. Many believe he is mute, but he only recently revealed he can speak to a select few. Even his longtime partner, Noah Bennet, was unaware of that fact until this point. Rene has the ability to erase memories and suppress the abilities of Specials in close proximity to him (whether these abilities are two different usages of some sort of mental suppression ability is unclear). He has a natural "static" to his mind (according to Matt Parkman) and can focus his ability on one person, as when he participated in the final defeat of Arthur Petrelli, but the strain was immense. His brother, the self-styled "**Baron Samedi**" was held in the Company's high-level containment facility, Level 5, until he broke out. The invulnerable Samedi was only restrained due to a mysteriously depowering eclipse of the sun and the assistance of Peter and Nathan Petrelli. Rene was then able to erase his brother's mind, leaving him defenseless.

**SANDRA and LYLE BENNET** - Sandra is the former wife of Noah, and mother to Claire and Larry aka Lyle. (It has been inferred that Lyle was adopted like Claire, but this has not been confirmed.) She worked in an upscale dining establishment when she met Noah, and it has been hinted that there was some (again unconfirmed) outside influence in their pairing. For several years now, she has worked as an award winning show dog trainer and breeder, **her current stud is Mr. Muggles**, a Pomeranian. She accidentally stumbled upon her husband's work (the Company's "bag and tag" equipment) shortly after Claire's adoption and her memory was forced to be wiped for the first of many times by The Haitian under orders from Noah's then-boss, **Eric Thompson, Sr**. This constant tampering eventually resulted in some minor brain damage she has apparently recovered from. Her trust in Noah was shattered when they became victims of a mind game played by a shape-shifting Sylar during a federal round-up of Specials and Noah chose his work over his family. She later formed a friendship with **Doug Douglas**, whose own Pomeranian, **Miss Lovegood**, is seemingly smitten with uber-stud Mr. Muggles. Claire finally does something useful at Thanksgiving and (s)he passes out after seeing Claire slicing her arm open.

**Lyle** (mistakenly referred to as "**Larry**" by Sylar) is Claire's younger brother, possibly also adopted as noted. He played soccer and possibly JV football at Union Wells HS while still in Odessa, TX, and may know Tae Kwon Do. He has chosen to remain with his mother at their home in Costa Verde, CA after his parent's separation. He is apparently not a good student and often appears disoriented and detached to events around him at times. Whether this is a result of memory wiping from the Haitian or some other (puff!) cause (puff!) is unknown at this time (koff!). However, he once helped to protect his home from an intrusion by the haywire electro-kinetic **Elle Bishop**. He defers traveling to his father's in Arlington for Thanksgiving, claiming he "has school". Whether he really had a school related excuse or just didn't want the hassle of traveling across the country to see his father, who barely acknowledges him, and his prima-donna sister (or just traveling with the rest of Muggles' bichons!) remains to be seen.

**MR. MUGGLES **- He rules **ALL** and you ****WILL**** bow down before his glory! **KNEEL BEFORE HIM! **Lest he devour you and erase you from ever existing! **KNEEL!**

...which brings us to: **CLAIRE! CLAIRE! BENNET **is a typical, whiny, self-centered teenage student, who dropped out of high school, but entered college after getting her GED. **CLAIRE! **is functionally immortal due to her regenerative ability (so yeah, even _there_). **CLAIRE! **is the biological daughter of the late New York Senator, Nathan Petrelli, and his late ex-lover, Meredith Gordon (both killed by Sylar in separate incidents). She was placed in the care of Noah Bennet as a baby by Kaito Nakamura, Hiro's father, in the hopes **CLAIRE! **would manifest an ability like her parents and grandparents. **CLAIRE! **recently started attending Arlington University, where her first roommate was killed in a staged suicide by one of Samuel Sullivan's loyal followers who held a personal grudge against **CLAIRE!**s father, Noah. While at Arlington, **CLAIRE! **befriended **Gretchen Berg**, who eventually became something more than just a friend after she learned of **CLAIRE!**s ability. After both survived another attempt on her life, **CLAIRE! **briefly fell under the sway of Samuel Sullivan before turning on him. After realizing her grandmother and father had betrayed her by hiding her father Nathan's death, and her own growing feelings for her new roommate, **CLAIRE! **decided not to hide who she was anymore. In front of a live broadcast news crew, **CLAIRE! **threw herself off a ferris wheel before rising up, relocating her shoulder while healing, and announcing, "My name is **Claire Bennet**, and this is attempt number...heh, I guess I've kinda lost count."

This selfish act by **CLAIRE! **has now exposed the nature of Specials to the world, whether they want it or not.

This is what happens next...


	2. Ch1  Aftershock

**HEROES - Volume 6: Brave New World**

Chapter 1: Aftershock

Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable characters, just playing with Tim Kring's toys.

A/N: I'm not sure if this is how LA hospitals are set up, just going by my recent car accident and (hopefully ONLY) kidney stone experiences. Never. Again. Urgggggggg!

(yeah, it's been a fun six months, here. NOT!)

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><p><strong>Friday night<strong>

**Los Angeles**

Matt Parkman grunted as the doctor wrapped the Velcro cast around his pant leg.

"Now, you'll want to keep off this leg as much as you can the first week," he ordered. "After that, try to _slowly_ ease into your usual routine and we'll see you back in two weeks," he continued as he wrote on a note pad. "Here's a prescription for the pain," he concluded, handing Matt the paper before nodding to the nurse. "And be sure and get those locks reinforced in case your home is broken into again," he added as he left.

"Thanks, Dr. Nadler," he nodded, glad they bought his 'strung out druggie' home invasion cover story. He realized the worst part was that he didn't have to 'push' the story into their heads to be believed, unfortunately.

"Is someone picking you up?" the nurse, Rose, asked as Matt frowned at the note, trying to decipher the scrawls of vicodin and flexeril from the doctor's signature.

"I called my wife, not sure when she'll get here," he replied as he tried decipher the dancing letters in front of him.

"Watch it with that vicodin, it'll back you up," she cautioned. "Be sure to add a little bran in your diet for the time being to keep things running properly," she winked.

Matt chuckled "thanks," as he glanced up to the en suite TV attached to the wall. Some breaking news story was happening. "Is that in New York?" he asked, reaching for the remote.

The nurse glanced to the TV. "Something happened in Central Park this evening. Something to do with a circus stunt?"

Matt's face went slack as he turned up the volume. _Ohshitohshitohshit_, he mentally muttered. _Please be okay, guys!_

"-porting from Central Park, we have _live_ video of a young woman who threw herself off a carnival Ferris wheel, only to stand up and heal before our cameras," the reporter droned in amazement. "Within _moments_, she appeared _unscathed_, as if it _never_ happened. We _again_ caution our more impressionable viewers, please do _not_ try this at home!"

"Dammit, Claire, what did you do now?" Matt whispered to himself.

"Sir?" she asked, looking at him, concerned. Matt waved her off and turned his attention back to the TV.

"We again warn viewers, that this video was shot _live_ and appears _gruesome_ at first, but the young woman in it appears _unharmed_ mere moments later," the reporter continued as footage of a young blonde falling from a height rolled, the camera zoomed in on her hitting the ground, only to rise up, a moment later. She stumbled toward the camera, readjusting her obviously dislocated shoulder.

"My name is Claire Bennet, and this was attempt number," she paused and chuckled to herself, "I guess I kinda lost track." She smiled, apparently pleased with herself.

Matt fumed. In the background, he could just make out a familiar grim visage wearing a distinctive pair of glasses. Matt would confirm _he_ was present for this later as more coverage of the incident continued in the days to follow.

"No, Claire," Matt groaned. "Please tell me you didn't-?"

"Do you know that girl, Mr. Parkman?" Rose asked.

Matt glanced at her. "You didn't hear me say anything," he ordered her. "Why don't you go check on your other patients?"

The woman paused, then turned and left Matt's cubicle.

"_Son of a _Fucking _Bitch_, Claire!" he muttered to himself again. "What the hell did you just do to us?"

He would have continued cursing out the regenerator who was on the other side of the country, but a familiar voice caught his ear outside.

"I'm looking for my husband, Matt Parkman?"

"Janice?" he called out. "Jan, I'm in here!"

A moment later, Janice Parkman poked her head in the emergency room cubicle, anxious at what she would find and relieved to see her wayward husband fine with the exception of the leg cast. "Matt? Thank god, you're okay!" she sighed, noting it was only a Velcro cast. "What happened? Who did this to you?"

"I'll tell you later, after we're out of here," he told her, then pointed to the TV. "It looks like we've got bigger problems to deal with, now."

Janice looked to the screen, confused, as the reporter continued to drone on, repeating her account of the mysterious carnival that appeared out of nowhere, the large crowd that seemed drawn to it, including their news crew, and the events that followed.

"What is this?" she asked. "What happened?"

"This is part of what happened to me, Jan," he explained. Before he could continue, the footage of Claire falling and rising rolled again.

"What the-? Who is that?" she asked, turning to her husband. "Do you know those people, Matt?"

He pointed at the dirty faced blonde, echoing her name. "Claire Bennet just exposed us to the world. We can't hide what we can do, now."

Janice Parkman's face mirrored the grim horror on her husband's. "Matty. We've got to get Matty and get out of here," she finally said. Matt nodded and motioned to the nurse he was ready to leave.

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><p><strong>Chennai, India<strong>

Mohinder Suresh woke to find the bed beside him empty and cold. The smell of cooking brought a smile to his face as he rose, shaking off the lingering jet lag from traveling, and went to greet his lover, Mira Shinoy. He could hear the TV babbling on about something or other in the kitchen.

"Morning," he cooed as he hugged Mira from behind. She was transfixed on the TV and shushed him. He gave the TV a confused look. "What's the big crisis of the day, this morning?" he asked, indifferently.

She turned her head and looked at him in confused horror. "Didn't you say you knew a Claire Bennet?"

Mohinder was taken aback in confusion. "Y-yes, but why?" he asked as he followed Mira's gaze back to the screen.

All he could muster was a weak, "Oh."

"Where's Molly?" she asked.

"I'll go get her," he replied, reaching for the phone to call his mother.

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><p><strong>New York City<strong>

Angela Petrelli scowled at the image of her granddaughter on the screen in front of her. "Oh, Claire, how could you?" she asked to no one but herself. She gave a sad sigh and turned off the TV, then turned to the file in front of her.

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><p><strong>New Orleans, Louisiana<strong>

"Children! Come in here!" Nana Dawson bellowed as she watched the footage once again.

Monica and Damon entered the living room. "What is it? I was actually doing my homework for once," Damon complained.

Monica gave him a light slap on the head. "Don't talk to grandma like that," she warned.

"Where's Micah?" Nana asked.

Damon shrugged. "He was looking at something on his laptop, then started crying," he replied, before muttering, "damn baby." Monica slapped him again and gave him a scolding look.

"Monica, I think he knows what's happened, already," Nana told her granddaughter.

"What happened?" she asked, glancing at the TV and seeing the 'Breaking News' banner.

"Something happened in Central Park," she explained. "Someone has exposed people like us to the world. The secret is out."

"Man, you people is crazy," Damon complained and turned back to his room.

"Damon," Nana said in a warning tone. "Don't you go starting anything with your cousin. Leave him be."

Damon nodded assent and returned to his room. He glanced to his teary eyed cousin and roommate. "It's all over the news, man. Nana wants to talk to you about it," he said as he returned to his homework.

Micah Sanders sniffled and nodded. Then he turned his attention back to his laptop and activated the "Rebellion" icon. It sent a signal out, which carried the footage of Claire's statement out to his network. He silently wondered how many would respond, how many would go into hiding...and how many would seek retaliation.

* * *

><p><strong>Central Park, New York City<strong>

Within hours, Noah Bennet and Lauren Gilmore had used their influence to have the Sullivan Brothers Carnival site in Central Park cleared of all onlookers. Noah now stood with Hiro Nakamura, Ando Masahashi and Peter Petrelli, with Lauren, Claire and Gabriel Gray standing watch for any more news crews and other would be interlopers.

"You three understand the plan?" he asked the trio.

"I've copied Hiro's powers, Ando boosts us, and we teleport the Carnival the heck out of here?" Peter repeated for what seemed the thirtieth time that night.

"Right back to where it was," Hiro nodded.

Bennet smiled and clapped each on the shoulder. "Good luck, boys," he smiled, "and don't forget to come back for us when you're done," he warned as he stepped away from the grounds.

Peter and Hiro each grabbed one of Ando's hands and concentrated as the supercharger's red energy began coursing through the trio.

Noah Bennet smiled as they left behind only a (very, very) large patch of trampled grass and a few odd holes from support beams, amongst the occasional piece of trash that had escaped the teleportation field. "That's one mess taken care of," he said to himself as he looked over to his adopted daughter, who looked back with a smile as she saw the Carnival had successfully disappeared. He forced a smile back.

The three guards approached his position. "Anyone spot anything?" he asked.

All three replied in the negative, Gabriel with a smirk.

"Sylar?" he asked menacingly.

"I never thought of using my telekinesis to pull up a haze of dust, before," he mused with a hint of mischief.

Noah sighed. "How many?"

"Just a couple kids who won't be able to use their camera footage because of the dark and blowing wind," he chuckled.

"You didn't hurt them, did you?" Claire warned, sidling away from him.

"Please, Claire," he rolled his eyes. "I'm not like that, anymore."

"Yeah, murderous villainy is _so_ last week for you," she sniped to Lauren, who smirked.

"Ask Peter," was all he would offer as Bennet cut in.

"Can we please focus on the task at hand?"

"Villain captured," Gabriel began counting off, "Evil lair disposed of; now we just need to decide what the media needs to know now," he concluded, glancing at Claire.

She shot him a dirty look. "I'm tired of hiding who I am."

"Does everyone else feel the same?" he questioned her.

She started to reply, then remembered West Rosen's parting furor the last time she tried to expose the existence of her fellow Specials. "I-uh, well-"

Gabriel gave a triumphant snort. "Didn't think so."

"_Sylar_," Noah warned.

"It's _Gabriel_, now," he corrected, "and I do have a point. How many people like us are there out there, Noah? How many have been content to live quietly without turning the world upside down like we have?"

"You're one to talk," Claire retorted.

"True, and at the time, I considered them unworthy of their abilities," he conceded, "but I've realized I've also met many people who would rather _not_ have their lives turned into a media circus just because they have a special talent. Your friend, Matt Parkman, for instance."

"What did you do to Matt?" Claire demanded.

"Me, nothing," he replied. "Although I don't think he'll be running any marathons anytime soon, thanks to our friend the multiplier."

"What?" came the Bennets echoed reply.

Gabriel sighed in frustration. "Peter can back me up on this," he informed them. "After I talked to you at your school, I went back to Matt and asked him to turn my powers off, so I could go back to a simpler life. He locked me inside my own mind for what seemed like years before -and after- Peter somehow made his way in," he explained. "We came to an understanding and finally managed to break out. Just in time to save Parkman's life from being cut short, quite literally may I add, by the Carnival's resident duplicator. I'm sorry, we didn't stay long enough to get his name, but you have him in custody now, Noah."

The trio stared at him in disbelief.

He sighed, "I told you, ask Peter!"

He was glad Peter chose that moment to return. "Ask me what?"

"What we did at Parkman's house," Gabriel said exasperated. "Saving his life and everything."

Peter looked like he suddenly forgot to turn the stove off and his house was ablaze. "Oh no! Matt!" He started to turn to leave, but Claire caught his arm.

"Is it true? What he said?" she demanded.

"What? Yeah. I've got to go make sure Matt got his leg taken care of," he told her. "I'll be right back," he finished as he blinked away.

Claire turned and glared at Sylar. "If Matt's hurt, or dead-" she warned.

Gabriel held up his hands. "It wasn't me, I swear," he replied, suddenly wishing he had a teleportation ability in his repertoire at the moment.

"Thank you, Hiro," Noah suddenly said. The others glanced to him as he snapped his phone shut. "Unlike Peter, Mr. Nakamura _will_ be giving us a ride out of here in a moment." He glanced around to the tree line, looking again for snoops. "And not a moment to soon," he finished as the Japanese teleporter appeared.

"Hiro!" Claire greeted him with a hug.

"Hello, cheerleader-er, Claire," he replied, before casting a wary glance to Sylar, unsure of his status. "This is everyone?" he asked.

Bennet caught his look to Sylar. "Yes, everyone here," he confirmed. "Don't worry about Sylar, he's playing nice...or so he says," he added cautiously.

Hiro reached out to take the hands of Claire and Lauren as Noah grabbed his shoulder.

Gabriel Gray rolled his eyes as he placed his hand on Bennet's shoulder. "I think I will make an exception in Peter's case if he doesn't clarify things. Soon."

Lauren saw the question Claire was about to ask coming. "Don't worry, we'll call him."

With that, the quintet disappeared from the former space briefly occupied by the Sullivan Brothers Carnival. Noah Bennet was right to suspect they were not alone as a lone figure entered the clearing to survey the scene, focusing on the spot that had been occupied a second earlier, his brows knitted.

* * *

><p>In a dark office, a man dressed in black sat watching the Central Park newscast. He frowned, then kissed the cross that hung from his neck before crossing himself and quietly praying. The only audible words anyone else would overhear being, "thy will be done."<p>

The Reverend Joshua Carpenter knew he must now take action.

* * *

><p>Peter arrived back at Matt's house, but it was silent. Assuming he was still at the hospital he quickly searched through the phone book to locate the nearest one, St. Sebastien's, and went looking for him, but found he had already left. Peter sighed and returned to Matt's home after jumping ahead an hour. Janice opened the door when he knocked.<p>

"Hi, my name is Peter Petrelli, I'm looking for Matt Parkman?" he greeted her.

She eyed him suspiciously for a moment, then told him, "You're not welcome here."

Peter was taken aback. "Excuse me?"

"Matt doesn't want to talk to any of you, right now," she told him. "I don't blame him," she added coldly.

"Please, I just wanted to check on him, to see if he's alright," he pleaded.

"Get the hell out of my house," she demanded and slammed the door in his face.

Undaunted, he teleported into the living room and found Matt laying on the couch, his cast-bound leg propped up on pillows. A half eaten sandwich sat on the coffee table next to a pair of prescription bottles and a bottle of water. A pair of crutches lay alongside the couch. One arm was thrown across Matt's eyes, the other holding his son resting on his chest. "Get out, Peter," he warned without moving.

"Matt?" he asked.

Matt lifted the arm off his eyes and glared at the intruder. "I thought I told Janice to tell you to fu-"

"I'm sorry Matt," he apologized, cutting his friend off, as he saw the man's wife come around the corner, scowling at him. "I just wanted to be sure you were going to be okay. Really."

"Go be a paramedic someplace else," he snarled. "Get the hell out and don't come back, Petrelli. I'm done with your family and their games," Matt told him, quietly as he could, trying not to wake his sleeping son. He switched to his telepathy. "_What Angela made me do-! Sylar was in my head for _weeks_, Peter! He even-" _he started to lose his temper, but checked himself with a glance to Janice.

Peter still caught an unintentional flicker of the memory of Sylar taking control and Janice's comment, after. When Matt realized it slipped through, he added the additional memory of Sylar's "second Parkman I've made scream" comment as well as what happened outside Albuquerque when Sylar made him kill the innocent Samaritan, Hank, and his threats at the Burnt Toast Diner in Midland, TX, which Matt could only counter with a suicide attempt.

"_What Claire did tonight was just as unforgivable," _he finished.

"I-I'm sorry, Matt," he apologized, now realizing the severity of what Matt had been through. "Had I known-"

"_You've obviously got Hiro's ability to go back and stop her. Why don't you?" _he demanded to know. _"For that matter, why don't you go back and keep me from getting my leg busted? From Sylar threatening my family? Hell, why don't you go back and stop Sylar from _killing your own brother? _Or even stopping Nathan from getting the government and that psycho Danko to round us all up just for existing?" _He was fuming, projecting Daphne's last moments with the last comment, just as Matthew started to stir on his chest.

"I-I-I'm sorry, Matt," he said again. "I would do anything to undo the last few months, but...I can't. It's not right."

"You're damn right," Matt growled in agreement, trying to sit up without losing his balance or his son. Peter offered a hand, but he batted it away. "Whatever happens, I want no part of it," he declared. "I never wanted to be a part of this and I refuse to let my family to come to harm again. The cost is too high." He switched to telepathy again. _"My father, Daphne, Ted, who knows how many others? Leave us alone, Peter."_

Peter gave a sullen nod and teleported away. Janice sat down beside her husband and tried to hug him, but he ignored her. He was riled up now from recent events and needed to blow off steam, but his injured leg prevented him from doing so. He handed Matthew back to his mother, who took him back to his own room to sleep. Matt reached for his pills and tossed them back, fuming over the audacity of Peter to show up like he did.

Peter went back to the now empty Central Park. Realizing Noah must have called in Hiro to get the stragglers out of there, he felt no immediate need to chase them down. Matt had made a point and he had much to think about. He at least tried to apologize to the man. His phone rang, but seeing it was Noah, he ignored it. He took his time to walk home and mull things over.

* * *

><p><strong>Southern Ohio<strong>

Noah Bennet surveyed the motley crew of Carnival survivors before him, acknowledging the few faces he did know, like Emma and Edgar. "We have taken Samuel into custody for his crimes, as well as Eli and Doyle," he announced. "Becky remains at large, so if you see her, please warn me," he chuckled.

Most of the crowd either chuckled with his joke, or just gave him a curious look, not knowing why he was concerned with their friend, or oblivious to their personal connection.

Noah collected himself and addressed the matter at hand. "The rest of you should be safe here. That is, provided you behave yourselves," he cautioned them. He could see the various members of the group nodding in understanding and agreement.

"There are some other matters to discuss," he continued. "Even though we stopped Samuel's plan to expose everyone here as a force to be reckoned with, Claire decided that he had the right idea and exposed her regenerative abilities to the news cameras."

A slight murmur rose of mixed reactions in the crowd, most wanting to know why she didn't save Lydia's life after the sniper shootings. Claire explained Samuel wouldn't let her, noting she did retrieve the first aid kit in an attempt to help. She claimed she held no ill will toward the tattooed empath during her short stay with the Carnival before her father continued.

"Now, if you stay here and keep to yourselves, you shouldn't have to worry about anything," he cautioned, "but I warn you, this may cause you trouble if you venture outside the valley for any reason."

"Are you telling us we're confined here, like some Indian Reservation?" the fire breather Chris Bowman asked.

Noah held his hands up. "No one is forcing you to stay here. Not in the least. But for now, it may be the best thing to do," he informed them. "We don't know if the media will think the situation with Claire is a one time publicity stunt, or if this will cause trouble for everyone, all over the globe. I would advise that those present here remain here until we know which way this news will be accepted."

He took notice that several were giving Claire the evil eye, clearly upset that she did this without asking anyone else's opinion on the matter. Clearly, Samuel did not hold everyone under his sway, especially now.

"I do want to inform you that there is a small group within the government that has been aware of people like you for several decades," he announced. More murmurs went through the crowd. "I am to understand Samuel was aware of this fact, and was recently made aware that he was born when his family was temporarily involved in one operation to study abilities. He was also aware that there was another recent operation to round up people like yourselves that has now dispersed, but that does not mean they won't try that tactic again."

Edgar stepped forward. "It's true," he agreed. "Lydia saw for herself when Samuel killed Joseph. Hiro took her back to that moment and they saw what really happened when Joseph died." Hiro nodded his head in agreement.

When he realized this was only making some factions of the crowd more upset, Noah decided to counter them with an offer. "The Company I work for was born out of a prior operation like that and has tried to keep tabs on your fellow Specials," he informed them. "For the longest time, we worked in shadows, cataloguing people and abilities, and only stepping in _when necessary_ when a very few situations got out of hand, either by their own darker natures or inability to control their abilities." He glanced around the mix of faces before him. "Yes, we were aware of a number of the people present here today, but the fact we let you carry on with your lives meant we believed we had nothing to worry about in those situations. That you could _control yourselves _in public. Hopefully, this will continue and we can work together to make sure that no further problems arise," he informed them. "But that is my point, we must work _together_ to show the outside world they have nothing to fear from people like yourselves. Can I trust you to do that?"

He glanced around to nervous looks, nods of assent, and lingering fear.

"I think I can help them with that, Noah," came a voice behind from him.

He turned and saw a woman step out of the shadows of one of the tents. He smiled when he saw who it was.

"Samuel came to me in Georgia," Tracy Strauss explained to the crowd, "when Noah and I were trying to help a boy whose touch could heal had also turned into a touch that could kill. Samuel told me how what happened there could be prevented. That the public doesn't have to fear and hate us. That we could work together to educate and train those with abilities like ourselves." She turned to the crowd. "Samuel already let me do that with a few people he wanted to join the Carnival once they had a better control of their abilities. I am willing to work with the rest of you to make sure that we don't trade one Samuel for another," she informed them. "Can I ask you all to work with me on accomplishing this?"

The crowd talked amongst themselves for a minute.

"You don't all have to decide right this minute," she told them, "but a decision will have to be made soon." The group discussed their options well into the next morning.

* * *

><p><strong>Sunday morning<strong>

The Reverend Joshua Carpenter surveyed his congregation. "My friends, we stand on the brink of a new era. One in which the common man must _fight_ for our very _survival_," he declared. "As I'm sure, you've all seen the news reports. A girl in New York City fell from a great height and healed in a matter of _seconds_ in front of a live news broadcast." Murmurs of assent went through the crowd. "What does this say about our future? Is this girl alone? A freak genetic accident? Or are there others out there like her?" More murmurs, now of curiosity.

Rev. Carpenter held up a handful of clippings. "We all read the tabloids, some for a laugh, some to gossip about what movie star is doing what these days," he chuckled. His face grew grim. "But there are also the more 'outlandish' stories that surface on occasion. Besides all the UFO and Bigfoot and chupacabra reports. Ones in which a girl in Russia claims to have _X-ray eyes _and can diagnose medical disease with frightening accuracy, even before doctors can confirm the diagnosis. Another boy is a _walking magnet_, attracting metal and can hang silverware from his chest. A German boy, not yet school age, who has the build of an Olympic weightlifter. A small town near Santo Domingo was laid waste during a wedding celebration, the groom and his sister were never found, nor was a trace of poison or other explanation for the deaths of all who lived there." He surveyed the congregation for their reactions.

"Right here in America," he continued, "a 17 year old girl who still looks no older than _two_. On the flip side, a handful of children around the world suffer from progeria, their bodies aging faster every day, killing them by the time they reach their twenties, _if_ they are lucky." He held up another clipping. "Another young woman, and several like her, feel no pain, not because of nerve damage from an accident, but because their natural pain receptors never worked. A serial killer who left little to no clues he or she was ever present, other than the exposed brains of the victims, in a few cases he appears to have even taken them. Another man was found murdered in his home, his belongings melted as if they were in some Salvador Dali painting." He glanced around the crowd again. "Sure, my friends, _some_ of these people, these children, may have some sort of _genetic disorder_, like cancers or multiple sclerosis, or the like. But _some_ of these people out there are like this Bennet girl and may not even know it."

Another murmur of concern ran through the crowd.

"It's one thing for _trained_ athletes to be better than the average person like you or I, running, lifting or what have you," he continued. "Those of you who follow the sports world know of all the accusations and even the few admissions of steroid use and abuse." A number of the men and some women agreed, either with a chuckle or grimaces of disgust. "But what about people like that Olympic bicyclist, who has been examined by doctors? They say his body _barely_ produces the normal fatigue toxins that slow the rest of us down, and what little he does produce is quickly eliminated. That didn't stop him from getting cancer, but he also has a team of doctors to make sure he is always in the best of health, so it is no wonder to _me_ the cancer was caught early. Who's to say this isn't _another_ person of interest like this girl?"

More nods of assent, as this logical conclusion made sense to those assembled.

"Now, I am _not_ saying we need to get the pitchforks and torches and have ourselves a witch hunt, accusing neighbors with any kind of natural talent for being '_different_', for being '_weird_', for being their own person defying what is thought of as '_normal_', just because they dress different or believe differently than you do. No, my friends, I am _not_ saying that."

He glanced among the parents in the crowd. "What happens when our perfectly _normal_ children decide they can do what this Bennet girl can do and start _injuring_ themselves to see for themselves?" Nervous gasps rang out. "What happens when our children start jumping off heights trying to fly so they, too, can be '_special_'? What next, throwing themselves in front of _traffic_? Setting themselves on _fire_? Just to see if they can heal like this girl? This '_Claire Bennet_' in New York City? No, my friends, we need to _protect_ our children from this nonsense. We need to put a _stop_ to this _today_. Are you with me?"

The crowd erupted in agreement. All but the woman seated in the front row, who sat deep in concentration. Joshua Carpenter smiled down at his wife, Barbara.

* * *

><p>TBC_<p> 


	3. Ch2 Infamous

HEROES - Volume 6: Brave New World

Chapter 2: Infamous

Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable characters, just playing with Tim Kring's toys.

A/N - well, it's official. Before I could continue with this chapter, the news broke. RIP HEROES! It was a wild ride, kids. And a BIG "THANK YOU" to the cast and crew who made it happen. Special shout-outs to Wendi and James. You guys ROCK.

(yes, even TK, for giving it to us...then becoming the bastard parent who tries to kill his own child.)

* * *

><p><strong>Saturday morning <strong>

**Arlington, VA**

"Thanks for dropping us off, Hiro," Noah Bennet said again, shaking the man's hand. "I'll let you know what the plan is in a few days. Where can I reach you?"

Hiro reached into his pocket and produced a business card. He handed it over beaming brightly. "Here. I am ready and willing to help in any way I can!" he announced.

Noah had to chuckle at the card, "Dial a Hero, huh?" Hiro nodded eagerly as Ando yawned beside him. "Why don't you boys go home and get some rest? I'll be in touch."

Hiro nodded again, then bowed to Lauren before grabbing Ando by the shoulder and disappearing.

"Well, he seems to be up for another adventure, already," she mused, handing her partner a cup of coffee.

"He's like that," Noah replied, taking the mug, then setting it back down and hugging Lauren to him. "He should be taking it easy. Ando told me he just had surgery to remove that brain tumor." He looked down into his partner's eyes. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Emma says a few days of rest and I should be," she replied. She looked at him with a smirk. "What did you have in mind?"

"A hot shower and plenty of, shall we say, bed rest?" he said with a smirk.

She gave him a sly look in return. "The sun's already up," she noted. "We're going to sleep the rest of the day away?"

"Who said anything about sleep?"

She put a hand on his chest. "Are you sure you want to do this, Noah?"

"Sandra's moved on, it's time I did, too," he decided.

As the pair made for the bathroom, his phone rang. He stopped, sighed, and checked who it was. "Claire. I wonder what she wants already? We just dropped her off at school." He pressed the button to take the call. "Hi honey, everything okay?"

"Dad? I think I'm in trouble."

* * *

><p><strong>Arlington, University<strong>

Hiro dropped Claire off in her dorm room and disappeared so fast, Gretchen didn't even realize she was there until Claire bumped into the desk trying to turn on the light. She pulled her head out from under her pillow and stared at her roommate.

"Where have you been?" she accused. "It's after three in the morning!"

Claire stopped and stared at her for a moment like a deer caught in the headlights. "We're not going to be one of _those_ couples, are we?" she kidded, trying to lighten her friend's frantic mood. Gretchen glared at her. "You didn't see the news?"

"Yes. I did," she said flatly. "And so did _everyone else!" _she continued excitedly. "They want to talk to you! People have been banging on our door all night! How did you even sneak past them?"

"Sorry," Claire apologized. "I have a friend who can teleport," she explained, going to the window to open the shades. Gretchen leaped up to stop her.

"_Don't!" _she warned, grabbing Claire's arm. "There's a whole crowd out there, waiting for you to come home."

Claire stared at the window. "Is that good or bad?"

"Bad," Gretchen replied. "Real bad." She was on the verge of tears. Claire pulled her into a hug.

"I'm sorry," she consoled her. "I didn't think this would happen so fast, or you would get pulled into it."

Gretchen bit her lip, afraid of what she might say next.

"Let's try and get some sleep, okay?" Claire asked. Gretchen nodded and the pair turned in, cuddling together under Gretchen's comforter.

Three hours later, they were awakened by banging on the door. Claire quickly slipped into the closet while Gretchen went to see who it was. The students outside wanted to know if she had heard from Claire yet. Gretchen told them she hadn't heard anything and to please leave her alone, slamming the door in their faces.

Claire stepped out of the closet. "Thanks, I'm sorry about all this, but I do appreciate you covering for me."

Gretchen shrugged and stared at the floor. "As long as we're up, want me to slip out and try and grab some breakfast?"

Claire nodded. "As long as we're up. Might as well make a food run before it gets really crowded out there, today."

"How will you get out of here?"

Claire shrugged. "Call Peter, I guess, if he still has Hiro's teleportation. Otherwise, call Hiro back to get me."

Gretchen stared at her a moment. "Claire, this is what I was talking about, before," she pleaded. "You seem to have an answer for every situation. I don't think I could get used to this."

Claire pulled her into a hug. "I'm sorry, Gretchen. Under the circumstances, you're doing fine."

Gretchen nodded and pulled away. "If you say so," she replied. After an awkward silence, she spoke up, "I guess I'm going to go get some breakfast. Need anything else? A wig, big sunglasses and floppy hat, hair dye?" she chuckled.

Claire laughed. "No, just breakfast for now," she replied, then kissed Gretchen on the cheek with a sincere "Thank you."

Gretchen smiled and opened the door as Claire hid behind it. "Once more into the breach," she muttered to herself as she pushed her way into the crowd of students hanging about. A mix of anxious (and more than a few hungover) classmates tried to ask her questions, but she ignored them and pressed forward. She stopped as an older man blocked her way. It took her a moment to realize who he was.

Back in their room, Claire sighed and went to peek out the window. There were already four news crews present, either setting up or getting ready to do the morning broadcast. Campus police had barricaded the dorm, not letting anyone in without ID and someone inside vouching for them.

She jumped as someone knocked on the door. She headed for the closet just in case when the door flew open. Gretchen and the university Dean slipped inside as their dorm's Resident Advisor blocked off the rest of the students from entering.

"Miss Bennet, I presume?" he said as she stood there, mouth agape. "I believe we need to talk. Now."

* * *

><p><strong>Costa Verde, CA<strong>

"Lyle, get up and get dressed!" Sandra Bennet shouted into her son's room, waking him up. "_Now!"_

Lyle groggily raised his head at her and promptly dropped it back into his pillow.

"_Now_, mister!" she yelled. "Your sister's in trouble!"

Lyle rolled his eyes. _Claire! _It was always about _Claire! _Then he heard the doorbell. (He seemed to recall it had gone off several times that morning, already. He had long ago learned to ignore Mr. Muggles' frantic barks whenever that happened.) He drug himself out of bed and did a double take as he glanced out the window. There was a small crowd outside, milling around.

"What the-?" he wondered. He turned and saw his mother passing by his door again, frantic. "Mom? What's going on?"

"Your sister did something very foolish in New York last night," she called back as she kept moving. "Now get dressed."

Lyle did as he was told and found his mother in the kitchen. He tried to ignore the yapping Pomeranian by the front window, constantly jumping up to see the crowd. Lyle briefly wondered how long he would do that before he stopped.

"Whatever you do, don't answer the door and don't answer the phone unless it's your sister or your father," she warned him.

"What did she do now?" he groaned.

She stopped scrambling eggs, turned to face him, and placed her hands on the counter. "There was some sort of circus or carnival in Central Park last night."

"In New York?" he asked as she paused.

"Yes," she replied, briefly wondering why he would ask such a stupid question, "and for _some_ reason, your sister decided to throw herself off the Ferris wheel in front of a news crew," she informed her son.

Lyle's jaw dropped. "She _what_?"

"Your sister exposed her abilities on live television, Lyle," she repeated. "It's all over the news."

He wandered back into the front room and glanced out the curtains. Muggles stood on his hind legs, trying to see who was on his lawn, too. Lyle could see a news truck setting up for a broadcast. A moment of 'kewl' slowly gave way to the realization that he was now going to be hounded by these people, possibly for the rest of his life.

"Lyle, get away from the window and come eat your breakfast!" Sandra called to him.

Lyle Bennet now realized why his father worked so hard to keep things under wraps. Then he wondered how long it would be before his sister's newfound celebrity status would turn against her?

* * *

><p><strong>Los Angeles<strong>

"Matt? Matt, wake up," Janice shook her husband, rousing him from sleep.

He found it hard to shake the drug-induced slumber his new prescriptions gave him. "hrrm? wzzt?" was all he managed before he shifted his weight and pain shot up his injured leg.

"Your friend Claire? She's all over the news this morning," she informed him. "They have camera crews all over the place, trying to get pictures of her, some place here in California; a high school in Texas; some college in Arlington. That spot in Central Park where the circus was is now empty and the media is going nuts."

"Not our problem," he muttered. "Come back to bed," he urged her.

"I can't, Matt," she told him. "What if they find some connection to you? What then? I won't have them following us around all the time, like some of those-those Hollywood bimbos and tarts."

"If they do, I'll tell them we're not the droids they're looking for," he slurred. "b'sides, yer _my_ tart," he chuckled into the pillow.

She punched his shoulder. "That's not funny, Matt."

Matt grunted at the punch, still trying to wake up. "That's one of the advantages of being me, I can tell them we don't know anything and they have to believe me," he groggily consoled her.

"You really wouldn't use your powers like that, would you?"

He turned to look her in the eye. "To protect my family? You're damn right I would."

Janice's moment of shock fell away and she kissed him for his honesty. Before she could do anything else, Matthew began crying in the other room. They shared a moment of parental annoyance before she left to check on their son. Matt snuggled back into his pillow, but his mind was now racing, wondering how long he could keep his family free of this mess Claire Bennet had brought down on their heads.

It would only be days before that connection was uncovered. Matt would silently curse the girl's real father for dragging him onto that podium in Odessa. By the time that happened, a plan had already been set into motion by a most unexpected ally.

* * *

><p><strong>New York City<strong>

Peter Petrelli woke and checked his phone. No new messages to either text he sent to Claire, Noah, or Emma before he turned in the night before. He wondered if the media had blown it off or-? He was almost afraid to turn on the TV.

As he ate a bowl of cereal, the local news was still droning on about the mystery carnival that had disappeared as mysteriously as it had appeared, the alleged (non-existent as they now confirmed) gas main beneath it causing panic, and the mystery girl who's probable suicide attempt had the city buzzing. A local psychologist had been brought in to comment, saying that Claire was obviously under severe distress. He claimed she would likely be suicidal and dead by now if not for this strange turn of events concerning her ability to rapidly heal. He declared she most likely was a 'cutter' on top of that. Peter had to laugh.

Another medical professional gave his opinion on her healing, saying it was a fluke and even advances in modern healing would take days, not seconds, and even longer for the injuries she appeared to have suffered. He asked that she come in for tests to prove this wasn't a trick, and how studying her could benefit others, calling it a profound breakthrough in medical revolution. Other news commentators noted that the video had already gone viral on various websites, and she was likely a bona fide star, publicity stunt or not. They even had their own news research teams looking for any other footage of the girl.

This last comment gave Peter pause. He wasn't aware of any official record of Claire connecting her to Nathan, but he was sure his arrest after Sylar's initial attack on her at Union Wells Homecoming would be unearthed soon. He tried to recall if there were any news cameras at Nathan's funeral that might have captured her. He hoped any other link would have been buried by his mother and the Company.

No time like the present to check, he thought and teleported to his mother's. "Mom, you home?" he called out, hoping she would be awake, if she hadn't been up all night running damage control.

"In here, Peter," she replied from the kitchen. He entered as she poured him a cup of coffee. "Any word from Claire, yet?"

"No, they tried to call me after we sent the Carnival back to Ohio, but after checking on Matt, I really wasn't in the mood to talk to them."

"Matt Parkman was there last night, too?" she asked, concern darkening her face. He surmised that she was already aware of Matt's peripheral involvement.

"No, he was attacked by one of Samuel's men at his home in California, I went to check on him after we took care of everything else," he explained. "He's got a busted leg, and he's mad at Claire for what she did, to say the least. Told me not to come back."

"That's understandable, Peter," she consoled him. "He was never one to be a team player, at least, as far as the Company is concerned."

Peter eyed his mother. "He's also mad at you for your part in endangering his family with that stunt you made him do to Sylar and Nathan," he informed her. "Care to elaborate your side of the story?"

Angela frowned. "What happened had to be done, Peter. No use crying over spilled milk. We all have to make sacrifices."

"Mom, I already know what you made Matt do to try and save Nathan, but what he told me about what Sylar did while he was stuck in Matt's brain? I don't blame him for being mad at you for that."

"That was an unexpected side effect," she said casually. "If Mr. Parkman had bothered to accept his abilities, he would have known to prevent that from happening."

Peter stared at her. "Are you telling me this wasn't the first time that happened?" She looked away. His mind raced with the possibilities. He finally admitted, "It seems Matt has the right idea. I don't want to be involved in this mess, either. At least tell me you've covered Claire's connections to the family."

Angela looked her son in the eye. "I will not allow her foolishness to bring ruin to this family and everything we have built."

"You didn't exactly answer my question, mom."

"What's done is done, Peter." She took another sip of coffee.

Peter studied her face for a long moment, but couldn't glean a clue to her plans. He suddenly wished he was able to retain more than one ability at a time and still had Matt's telepathy.

"I think I'm done here," he said, rising to his feet to leave.

"Peter?"

He stopped and turned to look at her.

"Don't forget who your friends are, Peter," she cautioned him. He gave her an annoyed look before teleporting out.

Returning to his apartment, he texted Claire, "don't say anything about N. A not on board? MP furious. P." He hoped she would get the message before she said anything to anyone else.

* * *

><p>"To put it simply, we are asking you to leave for the safety of the other students, Ms. Bennet," Dean Martin informed her.<p>

"You can't do this!" Claire protested.

"We can," the Dean countered. "Our school guidelines say we can ask anyone that may pose a disruptive nuisance to other students to leave," he informed her. "I'm not sure what was going on with that stunt you so brazenly pulled, but I will not have my campus in an uproar because of your presence."

"I want to talk to my lawyer," she protested.

"Go ahead, Ms. Bennet, I already discussed the matter with our school lawyers," he informed her. "I know you've had a rough time of it since coming here, with your previous roommate's demise-"

"She was _killed_!"

The Dean gave a slight pause. "I'm not going to argue with you over whether it was a suicide or murder, as you claim, young lady," he said. "I do know that since then, you have missed classes and what few grades you have managed to earn, have taken a downturn in recent weeks."

"I can explain, my father di-" she started to say, before catching herself. She realized now might not be the best time to expose her adoption and true biological family.

The Dean raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to finish. "Yes, what about your father?"

Claire could only think of the closest cover story. "My father didn't move all the way across the country to be with me just to have you kick me out! When he paid my tuition, he-"

He held up his hand and cut her off again. "According to my records, Mr. Bennet did _not_ pay your tuition," he explained.

"Then who-?"

"Some law firm in New York?" he replied, glancing over the papers in front of him. "Petrelli and-"

"_Angela?" _she blurted. "She's the one who paid for my school?"

The Dean held up his hands. "I do not know, but seeing as how you were about to fail all your classes on top of this, I have no choice but to ask you to leave. We would like you to be gone by the end of the day, but I'm afraid we have to give you until the end of the week," he informed her before adding, "according to our lawyers."

"I want to argue this!" she exclaimed, jumping to her feet. "You can't just throw me out with no-"

"We can and we are, Ms. Bennet," he informed her. "For the safety of my school and it's students, we are asking you to leave."

"But-"

"And now I am asking you to leave my office, young lady," he informed her, motioning to the RA at the door. "Have a nice life," he added.

Claire had no choice but to do as he asked. She was escorted back to her dorm by campus security, where she called her father and broke the news to him.

* * *

><p>Reactions around the country and the globe were mixed. Most initially assumed it was a stunt for some new movie or promotion. Those that accepted it as real were mostly the growing geek community, in favor of finding out that the superheroes they grew up with were real. Those that opposed this new turn of events usually did so with the claim of demonic possession, having taken up the religious repercussions.<p>

In Odessa, TX, several former classmates of Claire's spilled what they knew to inquiring reporters, most hoping to get their shot at fame. This did not help any when the "Claire Butler" connection to Costa Verde was established. Instead of tolerating the local neighbors and news, Sandra Bennet soon found herself besieged by a throng and afraid to venture out. She had to ask her friend Doug to get them basic necessities such as groceries.

It was Wednesday before a staffer in a DC newsroom found a picture of her attending Senator Nathan Petrelli's funeral. Noah Bennet had already been accosted by newspeople, having been identified not only as her father, but also as the man she was with before taking her leap. When the Petrelli connection broke, he had already moved in with Claire to Angela's home, which only provided them with a temporary reprieve. Angela made it clear she was not happy with her granddaughter before that, even less so after.

"They know about Claire and Nathan," Angela informed Noah. "Where do you plan on going now?"

"I'm sorry?" he replied, flustered, as he looked up from the file he was going over in the former home office of Arthur Petrelli.

"I won't have her turning my house into a media circus," she stated flatly. "In fact, I've already had to make arrangements to put my grandsons into a more, shall we say, discreet learning environment. Her little stunt is costing everyone, Noah."

Bennet pursed his lips, trying to think of an alternative. "I would suggest we move into one of the Company facilities, but you'll recall the local office was destroyed by Sylar, and the Odessa branch is probably crawling with news media looking up my background."

"What about the loft downtown?" she suggested.

"Too easily accessible by strangers," he noted. "Besides, the last time I was in there, we were cleaning up Suresh's little _experiments_."

"There's the Tappen safe house," she replied. "It's not much more than a warehouse, but it will provide a decent base of operations, for now." He seemed to mull this over. "A few cots and some groceries and you two will be fine for a while."

"What's the rent?" he quipped.

"Don't get smart with me, Noah," she warned. "It's bad enough she exposed herself, but now that her connection to the rest of my family has been exposed, it's only a matter of time before life becomes a living hell for what's left of my family. My grandsons don't deserve this, and neither does their mother."

"I know. Trust me, Sandra has chewed my ear off about it," he groused. "Lyle won't even speak to her anymore."

At the mention of his son, Noah Bennet thought he caught a flicker of fear in his employer's eyes, but it passed so fast, he wasn't sure.

Angela reined her emotions in. "Then it's settled, Peter can take you two out to New Jersey so you can get settled."

"New Jersey?" Claire asked, wandering into the room.

Angela forced a smile. "Yes, dear. As I was explaining to Noah, I won't have my home turned into a circus because of the media firestorm you have so callously ignited."

Claire glared at her grandmother. "I'm not going to hide who I am," she declared. "There's no reason for me not to."

"Really? What does your mother think of that?" she replied, coolly. "For that matter, what of the rest of your family? Not all of us can heal or defend ourselves from attack."

"Didn't see this coming?" Claire snarled back.

"Ladies!" Noah interjected before they could continue. He turned to his daughter. "Claire, your grandmother thinks we would be better off in a more isolated area. One where we can blend in and not draw any more attention to ourselves. After the last few days, I would think you'd appreciate a little quiet before they really start digging into our lives."

"In New Jersey?" she huffed.

"It's either New Jersey or Antarctica," he replied. "I don't know about you, but I'm not that fond of penguins. Now go pack your bags, young lady."

Claire glared at her father before turning and leaving the room.

Noah turned back to Angela. "How long before the media start uncovering the other connections?"

"It took them less than a week to find this one," she reminded him. "I'm sure that there are a few others who need to be warned about what's coming to them." She gave him a knowing look. Starting with anyone who has made a public appearance with Nathan."

"Well, besides Heidi and Peter, that would be," he paused to think for a moment before his face went slack. "_Matt Parkman_?"

Angela's lip curled as she nodded.

Noah was already sifting through his cell listings for Matt.

Janice Parkman answered on the second ring. "Hello, Parkman residence."

"Mrs. Parkman, this is Noah Bennet. Is Matt there?"

Janice frowned at the name. Matt had already given her a list of people not to talk to. "He doesn't want to talk to you. We've already told you people to leave us alone."

"Mrs. Parkman, please, this is an urgent matter," he insisted.

"Matt was almost killed, and he told you he doesn't want anything else to do with-"

"Tell him they know about Nathan," he informed her. "It's not going to be long before they find him. I'd suggest you put your husband on the phone, _now_."

"I already told you, we don't want any part of-"

"Mrs. Parkman, I am trying to _warn_ you," he insisted. "You need to get away from your home immediately. Go incognito and-hello?" He pulled the phone away from his ear as he realized she had hung up. He looked up to Angela. "Well, he can't say I didn't try and warn him."

Janice returned the phone to it's base and went to check on her husband. He was still sleeping, the muscle relaxants having knocked him out yet again. She ran her hand through his bristled hair and kissed him on the cheek before leaving him to check on their son. When he woke for dinner, she didn't say a word to him, but he could tell she was distracted by something.

"You going to tell me what's up?" he finally asked her.

She sighed. "You read my mind?"

"No, you're obviously upset about something, though," he insisted.

"Someone called for you today."

Matt froze, but put on a brave face. "Yeah, who?"

"Noah...Butler? Bennet? something like that."

"Bennet," Matt echoed grimly. "Did you tell him off for me?"

"I tried, but he insisted we were in danger."

"From what now?" he rolled his eyes.

"Something about 'Nathan' finding you?"

Matt froze. He stared at his wife. "What else did he say? Did he say anything else?"

"Dunno, I hung up on him," she replied, eyeing her nervous husband.

Matt hung his head in his hands and sighed.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

He folded his arms on the table and turned to her. "Nathan was Claire's father," he informed her. "He's dead now, but when he tried to expose us in Odessa a while back, well, there was an assassination attempt on his life."

"So...like father, like daughter?" she asked. "What's that got to do with you, Matt?"

"I was standing beside him on the podium when it happened."

"Oh," she said quietly, now recalling seeing the picture of the incident splashed across newspapers at the time. Matt's face had thankfully been a blur, and the camera news crews present had not identified him until later, but he was nowhere to be found by the time Nathan's 'miraculous recovery' had occurred. "So somebody killed him to stop him from exposing people like you?"

"He was one of us, and his brother came back from the future and...shot him," he explained. "His present day self went chasing after him...self, but he got tricked and we got duped into thinking the Peter from the future was our Peter. When I realized what was going on, he sent me to Africa. It took me a week to get back, and not without the hassle of abusing my abilities."

Janice stared at him, dumbstruck. "_What_?"

He related the following events, not mentioning Daphne if he could, up to the point where Nathan and Peter confronted Sylar in DC, ending in Nathan's demise. "At that point, Angela and Noah basically forced me to reprogram Sylar into thinking he was Nathan, but Sylar's mind somehow jumped into my mind, which you already knew about."

"Matt, they can't force you to cooperate with them, anymore," she insisted.

"You don't get it, Jan. Once they made the jump from Claire to Nathan, the media will start backtracking all of Nathan's movements, including the press conference where he got shot," he explained. "If Noah was trying to warn me about that, we need to get out of here before the media track me down."

"But you said you could make them leave us alone?"

"Yes, to anybody who comes to the door," he told her. "If anybody else makes the connection and reports it, then I can't make them ignore us. We'll be in the spotlight as much as Claire is, now."

"What if I tell them you're not here?"

"Jan, I already went back to work for the LAPD and gave them this address," he reminded her. "It's not going to take long before the media shows up."

"Where will we go? Where can we hide?"

"I don't know, Jan," he replied.

"What about my parent's lake house?"

"For a few days, maybe, but as soon as they start researching my background and yours? Our cover will be blown."

"A few days is better than no days," she declared.

Matt nodded. "Fine, go call your parents, let them know we'll be there," he agreed. "But make sure they know to play dumb to anyone who comes looking for us," he reminded her as she left the table.

No sooner had she picked up her phone from the charger than Matt's cell began ringing beside it. She grabbed it and glanced at the caller ID. "Mohindra?" she read.

"Mohin_der_," he corrected holding his hand out for his phone. He flipping it open, he asked, "I guess you heard the news?"

"Matthew? What's going on over there?" his former roommate asked.

"Chaos," Matt answered. "I got my leg busted up right before, and my wife is making plans to get us out of here, now."

"Are you okay, Matthew?" he asked. "What about the baby?"

"We're fine, but Noah said they uncovered her link to Nathan, so I've got to go into hiding for now," he replied. "Hey, how'd you know about the baby?"

"Our Japanese friends," Mohinder chuckled. "Hiro can be a very chatty individual."

"uh-huh," Matt mused as he fed Matthew another spoonful of food. "Speaking of babies, what about our kid?" he whispered once Janice left the room for her conversation.

"I've picked her up from my mother's, and she was glad to see me," Suresh replied. "She was anxious to know what was up with you, but..."

"Yeah, well," Matt demurred. "Listen, you know the situation over there better, so for now it's probably better to stay put." Matt paused, waiting for him to broach the subject, but he didn't. "How is she, anyway?"

"She misses you and is begging to talk to you, Matthew."

Matt glanced over to see Janice was still in the other room as he wiped Matthew's chin. "I miss her, too, Mohinder."

"When can I see you again?" came the reply.

Matt froze, realizing she had been given (or more likely taken over) the phone. "uh, hey, sweetie," he feigned delight at hearing her voice. "How are you?" he asked.

"I miss you and want to see you and visit you and-"

"Slow down, Molly," he whispered. "Now is not a good time. Maybe if-_when,"_ he corrected himself, "when this blows over, you can come visit-"

"Visit? Don't you want me, Matt? Don't you like me, anymore?"

"Of course I do, sweetie, but right now I just can't," he told her. "I'm sorry."

"You don't want me?" He could hear her voice breaking. His heart felt the same way.

"I'd love for you to come back, but we don't know what's going on with this announcement," he tried to explain. "It might be too dangerous and I don't want to see you get hurt. I do love you, honey."

A sniffled "okay" was her reply, but Matt was distracted as Janice chose that moment to return. Her eyes widened at what she heard.

"uh, Molly, I have to go now, just remember what I said," he told her, eyeing his wife. "And remember, you can always find me whenever you want. Tell Mohinder I'll call him back later?"

He barely heard a disappointed mumble of "okay" as he hung up.

"_Who._ was. _that_?"

Matt sighed, he didn't need this argument, not right now. "I never did tell you about Molly, did I?"

Janice fumed at him. "The whole truth and nothing but," she demanded.

He sighed. "Sit down," he asked her. "Let's do this the easy way," he said and reached for her head. He mentally downloaded all of his memories from the time he had met Molly up to the time he was forced to turn Sylar into Nathan. He thought it better not to share a few of the memories of the time the killer spent inside his head.

An hour later, Janice loaded her car with her belongings and their son's to leave for her parent's lake house.

Matt watched her load the car from the couch while he held Matthew. "I just want you to know I love you, Matthew," he told his boy while she shuttled back and forth, shooting him disgusted glares. "Just remember that, son." She finally came for him.

"I'm sorry, Jan," he apologized again.

"No. You don't get to be sorry, Matt," she said, taking their son from him.

He left his arms hang for a long moment, unsure what to do as she turned and walked out the door. He could hear Matthew begin crying as she buckled him in the car.

Matt was left to fend for himself. The next morning, he called Noah Bennet back. "I heard you wanted to warn me they were going to expose me, out me, whatever."

"Hello to you, too, Mr. Parkman."

"This better be good, Bennet," informed the man. "My wife left me last night over this mess."

"Matt, we could use your assistance on this," Bennet asked.

"I'm stuck here alone in LA with a busted leg," Matt reminded him. "I don't know how much help I'm going to be."

"I'll send Peter for you," Noah replied.

"Tell him to take his time, I ain't in no rush," he said and hung up. He was tempted to throw it across the room, but kept his anger in check.

Noah closed his phone and looked over to Angela. "We've got Matt, but he isn't too happy about it."

Angela scowled. "Be that as it may, Mr. Parkman still has a role to play before all this is done. We will need him before he dies."

Noah gave her a grim look.

* * *

><p>Edgar sped back into the Sullivan Brothers Carnival, arm loaded with the latest editions of the major newspapers. He called everyone around him, announcing, "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a problem." He held up the headlines.<p>

"It seems Miss Bennet has begun something of a controversy, after all," he declared. "While Samuel wanted them all to fear us, it looks like they want to turn Claire into some sort of pop idol or medical experiment."

Concerned chatter spread through the crowd. Gabriel Gray stepped forward, Emma Coolidge following close behind. "Let me see that," he insisted, grabbing a paper for himself. He quickly scanned the headlining article. "They don't know anything yet," he told them. "They still aren't sure if it was a publicity stunt or what to make of it."

"Better to be cautious than to embrace her as the next step in evolution," Edgar warned him. "I think they'll turn this into the next Red Scare or Salem Witch Trials." He leaned in closer so no one else could hear. "If they find out about us here? We can't let them get to her."

"That's if she allows them to get to her," Gabriel cautioned the speedster.

"What are you thinking?"

Gabriel smiled and glanced to Emma. "Where's your phone?"

* * *

><p>Peter teleported back into Matt's living room. It looked ransacked. This can't be good, he thought. "Matt?" he called out, "It's Peter. Noah asked me to come get you?" He began looking through the house. He found Matt slumped against the tub in the bathroom. "Matt! Are you okay?"<p>

"Lemme 'lone, 'trelli," he slurred.

"What's the matter?" Peter pressed, leaning over the man to check his vitals, mindful of the injured leg. He noticed a bit of vomit in the tub and toilet, as well as on his friend.

"'m drunk," he chuckled. "Not 'sposed to with meds, but figgered, what the fuck, huh?" His head lurched to the paramedic, eyes forcing to focus. "No one loves me. Wife gone, took kid. 'm 'lone, Pete. All 'lone."

"You are not alone, Matt," Peter countered. "I'm here. I'm your friend."

Matt slapped at his face. "Yer good kid, Pete. Nice but stupid."

Peter winced as he went to wet a washcloth. "Why would you say that?" he asked as he began to wipe Matt's face clean.

"I was like you once, Pete," he admitted. "I wanted to save the world from bastards like my old man. My wife cheated on me with someone I thought was my friend. She let me believe my kid was his. So I ran off to save the world to get away from her. Got swindled into the Company's games." He looked up at Peter with a sad expression before continuing. "Found my old man. He was still a bastard. Then he died. Your old man killed him, did you know that?"

Peter shook his head. "No. I'm sorry, Matt."

"I tried to start over," he continued. "Start a new family with Molly and Mo. Don't think I didn't know what people thought about that. Don't have to be detective or psychic to know that," he confessed. "Tried to start again with Daphne, but...Nathan, he-" His voice choked up.

Peter put his hand on Matt's shoulder. "I know."

"D'you know it was Micah who sent Hiro after my boy?" he asked. Peter shook his head. "He hacked Nathan's files. He had a fucking file on my baby! My son!" he sobbed.

Peter didn't say anything. He had long ago realized the Company probably kept files on him since he was a kid, as well as Nathan's boys. Most likely, Simone and Isaac, too, since their parents were Company Founders.

"But you-you, Pete, you knew all that, didn't you?" Matt asked. Before Peter could respond, the telepath continued. "Don't lie," Matt warned him as he helped him up to sit on the edge of the tub. "You were just thinking about it, about all of us having files. How long did you know?"

Peter sighed. "I figured they had them after finding out they injected Nathan with the Formula as a kid," he replied as he turned on the water to wash Matt. "I don't know how many files they have, but Claire said Noah had several boxes he kept from Odessa."

"And now, we're being asked to play along again, just because she couldn't keep her fucking mouth shut?" Matt shouted as he pulled off his t-shirt.

"That's not how it happened, she-" Peter countered as he released his friend's leg from the Velcro cast.

"Close enough, Peter," Matt said. "These people have been manipulating us all our lives, costing us our families. I know you've been so idealistic that you wanted to do what was right, but then you also came back from the future and shot your own brother to stop this before. Why didn't you stop her this time?"

"My abilities-"

"That's bullshit, Petrelli," he replied. "That's just a fucking excuse and you know it."

Peter looked at him for a long moment. "What are you talking about, Matt? You know my dad took my abilities, and-"

"-you can only steal one power at a time?" Matt finished. "Bullshit. I've been inside your head, Peter. It's a fucking mental block." Matt jerked his sweatpants down and swiveled around the edge to lower himself into the tub. He was too angry to care, but figured Peter had seen enough naked guys in med school and as a nurse not to look, much like his own time in the police locker room.

Peter was stunned. "W-what?"

"Your family betrayed you, so you threw up a mental block denying your powers," he explained as he let the water fall over him, rinsing the sweat and vomit away. "I did some poking in your head when you came after Sylar and got stuck in his head. You weren't totally in there, just mind linked for a bit."

Peter stared at him in disbelief. "What?"

"I had to make sure you were okay when you collapsed," he explained. "I poked around a little bit to make sure you were okay, and part of your brain was sealed off, but I could feel the energy coming from it. Figured it had to be your powers."

He leaned against the sink counter. "What, like a brick wall?"

Matt looked Peter in the eye. "What are you talking about?"

"When I was trapped with Gabriel in his head," he began, "we were trapped in a deserted city. There was this brick wall. We thought we were trapped there for a couple years and talked about a lot of stuff. We kept coming back to this wall, but couldn't get through. Gabriel had given up hope of getting out, but when I started to change his mind, the wall started giving way."

"That's how you got out?" Matt asked. "You talked him out?"

"Well, we also had sledgehammers. I don't know how you did it, but-"

Matt tapped his head. "Same trick my father used on me and Nathan, I used on him to stop Niki and free Molly," he explained. "Trapped Sylar in his own mind, his own nightmare, at his request. I didn't know anything about a wall, though."

"He must have made it," Peter guessed. "He kept himself, the both of us, trapped all those years?"

"It was barely a couple hours, Peter," Matt corrected him. "Besides, when I trapped him, I was pissed at him for threatening my family again. Probably why it took so long to get out." He ran his head under the shower.

"So what about me?" Peter asked. "Why did I lock my abilities away? Why only one at a time?"

Matt shrugged. "Like I said, you were betrayed by your family. Didn't think you were good enough. You made the blocks yourself."

"Then how do I break them?"

Matt shrugged again. "Beats me. Make amends with-oh. uh..."

Peter stared at the floor. "Gabriel. He was still Nathan after we saved you, but-"

"But what?"

"We fought," he explained. "I tried to keep Nathan alive through him, but..."

Matt waited for him to finish, curious as to what really happened. He had made Sylar remember only Nathan's memories. That's all he was after Matt had erased Sylar, a memory posing as a dead man.

"He wasn't strong enough to beat Sylar," he explained. "He said it was my time to shine. I had to carry on. That the world hadn't seen nothing, yet." He paused and turned to Matt. "That I can do anything," he smiled.

"Did you believe it? Believe him?"

"Not at the time, no."

"But now?"

"Gabriel and I have made amends. I stopped Samuel. I don't know what comes next," Peter admitted before he turned away and closed his eyes.

Matt decided he was done and grunted through the pain shooting in his leg as he reached for the tub knobs. They slowly started turning off by themselves. "What the-?"

A towel suddenly hit Matt in the face. He pulled it down and looked to Peter. He saw Sylar standing there, eyes closed, holding a hand out towards Matt. "What the fuck?" he exclaimed, feeling very vulnerable and very naked in front of this serial killer who had nearly cost him his life, several times over.

Matt caught himself as he noticed Sylar was wearing the same clothes Peter had been wearing. Then he felt as if someone were lifting him up and glanced down to see that he was slowly rising, floating out of the tub. Sylar grunted in effort.

"Peter?" he cautiously asked as he slowly turned in mid-air and was finally set to rest on the toilet. He hoped this was really Peter, as he quickly managed to wrap the towel around his waist.

The man quoted a Star Wars line from Yoda: "Do or do not, there is no try."

He watched in awe as Sylar's face slowly melted into Peter, just as he had once seen Sylar once turn into Nathan. He turned and looked at Matt. "Hey, it worked," he said proudly before realizing the look of shock on Matt's face. "What's wrong?"

"S-Sylar," he stammered. "You were Sylar. Just now."

Peter's face went slack. "Oh shit."

* * *

><p>TBC_<p> 


	4. Ch3 Best Laid Plans

HEROES - Volume 6: Brave New World

Chapter 3: Best Laid Plans

Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable characters, just playing with Tim Kring's toys.

A/N - show canon; GN semi-canon/references. A couple OCs.

* * *

><p><strong>New Orleans<strong>

Rev. Joshua Carpenter knocked on the door of the modest New Orleans home. One of the lucky ones to rebuild so quickly after Katrina, he mused as he waited. He smiled as the older black woman with a mane of silver answered.

"Can I help you?" Nana Dawson asked from behind the screen door. She looked the man up and down suspiciously, then glanced to the woman behind him in a business-cut pantsuit and veiled hat. She looked familiar, somehow.

"Greetings, ma'am, I was wondering if I could talk to you about the Lord, Our Saviour, for a few minutes?" he replied, smiling broadly through his thick, but neatly trimmed beard.

"Sorry, we're full up on Saving, here," she replied and began to close the door.

"Yes, but what about your children and grandchildren?" he asked.

She stopped and stared at him a long moment. "Who are you? What church did you say you were with?"

"I apologize. I am the Right Reverend Carpenter and this is my wife, Barbara, ma'am," he introduced himself. The veiled woman nodded at her mention, but Nana could see her mind was elsewhere. "We know this old city has had it rough and rebuilding takes time, but it's more than houses that need rebuilding. Faith also needs to be rebuilt."

"It's going to take a lot more than going to church and singing some hymns to rebuild the kind of faith I've lost, Reverend," she told him. "I'm getting too old for this kind of nonsense in my life. Good day to you, sir," she said as she closed the door.

Joshua turned to his wife. "They are not here, anymore," she informed him.

"Then we keep looking for them and any we can find," he told her and walked away. She turned and followed, as always.

Nana watched them walk away from her window, not bothering any of her neighbors.

"Was someone at the door?" Damon asked, coming up behind her and startling her.

"Child, do not scare me like that," she scolded him. "I'm going to tell you this once, and I want you to listen: If anyone comes looking for your sister and cousin, you don't know them or where they are. Do you understand me?"

Damon sighed. "This is about that thing on the news and why they took off, isn't it?"

"Consider yourself the lucky one, you won't have to deal with this mess again," she told him and began to walk away.

"Great, first the feds, now the religious nuts," Damon sighed. "I better not get kidnapped again! I ain't Micah!" he yelled after his grandmother.

* * *

><p><strong>Los Angeles<strong>

Matt watched in awe as Sylar's face slowly melted into Peter, just as he had once seen (okay, forced) Sylar turning into Nathan. He turned and looked at Matt. "Hey, it worked," he said proudly before realizing the look of shock on Matt's face. "What's wrong?"

"S-Sylar," he stammered. "You were Sylar. Just now."

Peter's face went slack. "Oh shit."

"W-what were you trying to do?" Matt asked cautiously.

"What Nathan told me, that I can do anything," he replied. "I thought I'd give you a hand getting out of the tub. I guess it worked, huh?"

"You just turned into _fucking Sylar,_ Peter! I don't think this is what Nathan -or you- expected."

"It's Gabriel, now," he corrected. "Maybe I have a few wires crossed? Want to take a peek in my head and see if you can't straighten them out?" he asked.

"Not here and not like this," Matt motioned to his still damp and nearly naked form. "Why don't we go somewhere that we won't be bothered?"

"Noah's crashing at a warehouse in New Jersey, that should do for now," Peter informed him before realizing something else. "Do, uh, do you need any help getting dressed or-?"

Matt sighed. "Janice was helping me get dressed, but since she's not here...?" He explained, trying to hide his embarrassment at the present situation.

"You know what? Hang on a moment," he said and knelt in front of Matt.

Matt blushed and stuck his hand down on the towel to cover himself as Peter gingerly grabbed his injured leg and closed his eyes in concentration. "Peter, what are you-" he began to protest when Peter's features started to melt into a teen with dirty blond hair. "What are you doing?"

"This is how I saved your life after you were shot," he informed his now youthful friend. "I copied this kid in Georgia with healing abilities to help Hiro, but I guess it was useful to help you, too."

"You _guess_? Peter, don't-ahh-hah!" he cried out as his leg seized up. The pain melted away and spread into a warmth up his leg. "Whoa, that does feel better. Is it...permanent?" he asked as the warmth spread through his lower body on up.

"Do you have any scars from getting shot?" Peter inquired, glancing at Matt's torso as he rose to his feet and held his hands out for his friend to stand.

"Not any new ones that I've noticed, and Jan didn't mention anything," he replied as he stood shakily. He leaned on the injured leg and shifted his weight on it a few times. "Feels good, too," he noted. "Almost brand new."

"Time will tell on that," he noted and started to leave. "I would keep the brace handy just in case," he added.

Matt sighed again as he bent to pick up the Velcro legging. He was thankful Peter didn't mention the side effect of-

"Yeah, I did notice it, but didn't want to embarrass you," he chuckled, leaning back in the door.

Matt looked up as the voice seemed different again. Familiar. He did a double take at his reflection, only to see it smile back at him and duck away. "Not funny, Petrelli!" he called after his friend.

* * *

><p><strong>Southern Ohio<strong>

A silver minivan pulled up to the Sullivan Brothers Carnival grounds. A few of the carnies watched as a blonde woman in her early thirties stepped out, telling the two pre-teen boys to stay put for now. "Who's in charge, here?" she asked.

Edgar came up to her. "Can I help you, ma'am?" He sized her up, noting that her build suggested she had been overweight most of her life, but was now thinner. Her hair was a wild tangle of blonde curls halfway down her back, and her make-up just a touch too heavy, although he thought she probably didn't need much to begin with but it did make her bright blue eyes pop even more.

"I was told by Rebel this was a 'safe haven' for my boys?" she inquired in a slightly husky voice. He figured her for a smoker, too, but she didn't smell of it now, either.

"I'm sorry, who's Rebel?" he asked.

"I think I can help you, miss," Gabriel said, stepping up behind the speedster. "You say Rebel sent you?"

"Yeah, he contacted me a while back, said the government was rounding up certain people with, let's just say, unique talents?" she explained, looking around the grounds. "He gave me a heads up before my house was raided, pissed off my so-called husband like all get out. My dad's a cop, so I hid out at his place for a few weeks."

"And why were they looking for you?" Edgar inquired.

"They weren't," Gabriel answered him. He nodded to the boys in the van. "Your sons, what can they do?"

"How did you know?" she started, then realized what was going on. "Y'all are hiding in plain sight, aren't you?"

Edgar gave a slight nod as Gabriel smiled.

"Well, it's kinda hard to explain," she said as she began to tell them more.

The boys tumbled out of the van, stretching their legs. They were a bit on the husky side, with dark brown hair in desperate need of a good trim, even if that was the current style. Gabriel noted one had blue eyes like his mother, the other a soft chocolate brown. Gabriel figured them for twins, fraternal, by the looks of it. The dark eyed twin locked eyes on him and scowled. His brother suddenly jerked his head in the same direction without a word passing between them. Gabriel gave a slight smirk.

"We're not a halfway house or anything," Edgar explained to their mother after she finished. "If you stay here, we can't promise much, and you'll have to help out around the place, earn your keep with chores and such."

"That doesn't sound too bad," she admitted and turned to the boys. "At least, it's better than the arguments that are starting up over what happened in New York."

"You mean what Claire did?" Gabriel inquired. "What's the general consensus, do you think?"

"That blonde girl? Well," she hesitated, trying to put it into a frame of reference. "I guess you could say it's like the whole gay marriage rights movement. Some are up in arms, but most don't seem to think it would affect them. I heard on the news, there's been several marches already, for and against."

Gabriel and Edgar shared a concerned look. "Do you know of any others like your boys?" Gabriel asked.

She hesitated again. "Well, kinda," she finally admitted, "but I can't be sure and I haven't really talked to him in a while."

"A friend?" Edgar prodded.

She blushed and gave a chuckle, then glanced to the boys. "You could say that."

"Their father?" Gabriel suggested. The boys had been glancing around the Carnival, taking it in, but both suddenly snapped to attention and stared at him again with dark looks.

"Yeah, their real father," she admitted. "I think he already knows what's going on, though." She paused before adding, "and what's going to happen."

* * *

><p><strong>Tappan, New Jersey<strong>

"Because I want to!" Claire demanded. "All those people out there don't know what to think about who I am. I can show them!"

"Claire, please be reasonable about this," Noah insisted. "What happens if you agree to one simple test, then they turn you into a lab experiment? We'll never see you again!"

"Fine, I'll only agree to medical tests if there are news cameras around," she decided. "That way, they can't trick me into staying or turn me into a lab rat!"

"Did you forget what Nathan did to you? To Peter?" he reminded her. "What about Matt Parkman, Hiro Nakamura, Daphne Millbrook, hmm? Do you remember what happened to Daphne?"

Claire flinched at the memory of the two of them getting shot trying to rescue Peter, Matt, and the others. Her ability allowed her to survive, but Daphne had been shot without warning, unable to outrace the fatal injuries she suffered that day. Matt's reaction was immediate and...unpleasant, to say the least. "She tried to save us. She died trying to be a hero. If for no other reason than I can save someone else from that fate, I'm doing that interview!"

"And what happens when that interview scares some dumb ass paranoid redneck into shooting someone he doesn't like? What then?" he inquired. "That blood will be on your hands!"

"What if it turns out to be another Sylar?" she argued. "That will be one less headache we'll have to worry about!"

"What if it turns out to be another Jeremy Greer, someone with a beneficial ability to mankind?" he reasoned. "Claire, this is what I spent the last several decades trying to keep from happening, especially to you!"

Claire opened her mouth to argue, then shut it, unable to think of an argument to that. She finally said, "I'm doing the interview, with or without your permission." She stormed out of the room.

"Damn it, Claire! You're not listening to me again!" he slapped the table, knocking his paper coffee cup over. He sighed and jumped up to clean the mess. "We're not done talking about this!" he yelled after her.

"Not done talking about what?"

"Gyah!" Noah jumped at the unexpected arrival of Peter Petrelli and Matt Parkman. He scowled at the duo.

"Your niece has decided to do interviews now," he informed them.

"She is, huh?" Peter replied as Matt scowled and turned away. "Want me to talk to her?" he asked as he went after her, not bothering to wait for a reply.

"Good luck with that," Noah sneered as he mopped up the spreading brown liquid to no avail. Matt snorted. "Can I help you, Mr. Parkman?"

"Hey, I'm only here because your daughter managed to put the final screw in my marriage, Bennet," he groused. "You called _me_, remember?"

"I only called you as a head's up you were about to be exposed, if you will recall," he replied. "We had nothing to do with the failure of your marriage. Again."

"And how's your marriage going?" the telepath snarked.

"Touché, Mr. Parkman, so let's table that discussion for another time, shall we?"

"Fine by me. Where am I crashing, then?" he asked, shrugging enough to show his luggage.

"There are rooms upstairs, take your pick," Bennet replied, dropping a sopping wet and dripping mess of paper towels into the trash can. "By the way, I thought you had a broken leg?"

"I did until a little bit ago," Matt informed him. "Apparently, Peter had a mental block, but can now recall a few of his former abilities. Except there's a catch, now."

"Oh? And what would that be?"

"It seems he has a few wires crossed, yet. It's always nice to get out of the tub and see Sylar standing in your bathroom."

"Sylar?"

"It seems Peter can't use another person's ability without turning into that person, hence Sylar helping me out of the tub all Jedi-style, some blond kid healing my leg, and Hiro giving me a lift here," Matt explained, realizing Bennet didn't see them arrive. "Peter wants me to poke around inside his head and see if I can uncross those wires."

"Can you do that?"

Matt shrugged. "I don't know. I guess we'll find out, huh?"

Noah gave him a cross look. "Matt, if you don't think you can do this-"

"Hey, you and Angela had enough confidence in me to rewire Sylar into thinking he was Nathan! Doing this should be a piece of cake!" he announced and promptly left the room.

Noah Bennet sighed. "Great. What else is going to go wrong, today?"

He half expected it when his phone rang. The caller ID showed 'private call'. He decided to answer it anyway.

"Grand Central Station, how may I ignore your call?"

"Noah Bennet?" came a gruff, possibly fake, voice over a bad connection.

The voice sounded familiar, but he couldn't place it due to the background traffic noise. "Who is this?" he cautiously answered.

"You're about to be raided by the feds," the voice informed him. "I'd get the boys out of Jersey if I were you."

"Who is this?" Noah demanded, but the caller hung up. He expected that. He wasn't sure whether to take the caller at face value or not. Better to be safe than sorry, he thought. "Parkman! Petrelli! We got a situation!" he hollered. He heard Matt curse in reply. "Oh yeah, this is going to be fun," he mused.

* * *

><p><strong>Albuquerque, NM<strong>

"What are you doing here?" Sparrow Redhouse inquired of the duo at her door. "Wait, let me guess, you're getting the band back together?" she quipped.

"Sorry to intrude on you like this, Sparrow," Monica Dawson apologized, "it seems there are several interested parties in all of us, right now."

"Do I want to know?" she sighed.

"Someone hacked my database," Micah informed his friend. "I sent out an alert when Claire exposed us, but haven't heard back from several people. When I tried to contact them through other channels, the few who had family or friends answer claimed that person hasn't been seen in days. I haven't even heard from West Rosen or Alex Woolsley, much less Abigail and Lee."

"Any ideas on who it could be?" the geokinetic inquired.

"No, and that's the problem," he replied. "I change the firewalls randomly, so whoever hacked us is either one of the few who already have access or a better hacker than myself and Hana, who built the firewalls to begin with."

"Wait, who's Hana?"

"Hana Gitelman used to work for the Company a couple years ago, before she went rogue," he explained. "I met her online and she explained to me that she used to be able to manipulate wireless electronic signals like wi-fi before she downloaded herself onto the internet."

"Whoa, that's pretty wild," Sparrow laughed. "So where is she now? Inside the net?"

"She was. I don't know anymore, I haven't heard from her since right before the federal round up by Nathan and Danko. I'm worried about her."

"Have you been covering your tracks? I'd really hate it if I had federal agents bust in here again."

"As much as we can," Monica assured her. "Micah periodically checks to make sure our pictures aren't in the federal facial recognition databases, anymore."

"Even the DMV?"

"That's like the only exception," he admitted. "I wrote a program that erases all of our fellow Special abductees from every database except there, and throws a 'red flag' filter to me on any non-governmental search engine."

"So what if the government is doing it with their own Special hacker or even Hana, herself?" Sparrow asked.

"It can't be her, it has to be somebody else," he insisted.

"Micah, you have to admit, it's a possibility," Monica told him.

"Yeah, because even if a Special made it into Congress in order to enable an operation like Building 26 to happen, then anything is possible," Sparrow argued. "Heck, I saw on the news that they were able to link your friend Claire to that Senator who died in a plane crash a while back -not JFK junior, that other guy- and are now looking for his brother and some other dude who were with him when he was shot in Texas a while back."

Micah stared at her a moment. "They linked Claire to Nathan?"

"Yeah, and now there are news crews camped outside his parent's place in New York, trying to get a shot of them and his brother," she told him. "I think the other guy lives in LA or something? Mark Mattman? or Pat-?"

"They know about Matt Parkman, too?" he exclaimed nervously.

"Yeah, that's it! They said he used to be LAPD, right?"

Micah ignored her, he was already flipping open his laptop. "I gotta warn Molly! She'll be next if they found Matt!"

"Wait, that girl we went after in India who could locate people?"

"yeah," he answered distractedly as he surfed the net for any sign of his young friend. "That's why she's a big target of whoever is taking people again," he informed her. "Using her ability, all they need is a name and photo to find anyone."

He then went silent for a minute.

"Okay, just chatted with her," he finally said. "She and Mohinder are going underground again. They talked to Matt the other day, who told them to stay away for now, but now he's not answering her calls, either, and she's worried."

"So someone got to Parkman already?" Monica asked.

"I'm checking Matt's home, now," he replied. "Looks like no outgoing landline calls for a few days, and his wife's cell signal is not coming from her home or work the last couple days?"

"Maybe he went underground?" Sparrow offered.

"I don't know, it appears his phone received and made calls from their home after hers moved," he replied. "I can't seem to locate it at the moment, though?"

"Okay, so he sent her away for her safety?" Monica suggested, although a shared look with Sparrow had the girls agreeing in thinking they had split up. "Who did he call, maybe that's a clue?"

Micah concentrated a second then smiled. "It was Mr. Bennet! He has to have sent his wife into hiding, and probably joined Bennet in his next move! I'll let Molly know!"

"Micah!" Monica yelled. "It's one thing to keep tabs on someone to make sure they're safe right now, but maybe he told Mohinder and Molly to maintain radio silence for their own protection?"

"oops," he mumbled before muttering to himself for a second. "Okay, got the email back before she could read it," he said more to himself than the girls, who rolled their eyes.

"Who's signal are you using, anyway? I'm lucky to get dial-up all the way out here!" Sparrow inquired.

"There's a faint cell tower signal I'm bouncing off of. I boosted my laptop's antenna, so I can pick up a signal almost anywhere," he explained.

"Well, that should come in handy, unless we get stuck in the mountains, desert, or, y'know, your laptop runs out of juice," Sparrow quipped. "I just hope whoever hacked your database can't trace that signal to here."

"Don't worry, I've put up extra firewalls and router-bouncers the last few weeks," he confided. "If anyone tries to trace my signal, they'll think I'm up in Canada."

Sparrow looked at Monica. "Geek!" they both cried before busting out laughing. It stopped when her front door suddenly burst open.

* * *

><p>Molly Walker clicked on her newest email from "Rebel" aka Micah, titled "found Matt!" She was confused when her computer told her the message was no longer there, that it "may have been moved." She double-checked her inbox, but the message was no longer listed, nor was it in her trash or spam. She glanced to her contacts to see that he had logged off, already. "Stupid boys!" she muttered to herself, even though she was glad to know Matt was still out there. His location had been hard to pinpoint for her today, so she assumed he had been teleporting with Hiro or Peter.<p>

"What now?" Mohinder asked her in the seat beside her.

"Nothing, just Micah," she grumbled.

"Well, stay off the internet for now, okay?" he asked.

"Like I have anything else to do on this stupid plane!" she griped.

"I'll be sure to let Mr. Nakamura know that when we land," he informed her. "What about your homework?" he suggested much to his dismay as she informed him she didn't bring her schoolbooks because they were too bulky to carry while they were on the run, and she was already studying ahead of where she was supposed to be (which he was glad of), and on and on.

Then she started in about why didn't Hiro come pick them up, mid-flight, as they were sitting ducks on the plane. He had to explain to her it was harder for Hiro to teleport onto a moving vehicle, especially a plane, as he would need exact coordinates, which she would know if she studied her geometry and physics homework better.

This led into yet another homework argument that had Mohinder wishing Hiro hadn't suggested they hide out with him and Ando in Tokyo. He wanted to show off his new "lair" and the "Ando-cycle" to his friends. Mohinder only agreed as it would have been better than sitting at home in Chennai, waiting for more US federal agents to abduct them again, seeing as how they had already done so once with Hiro and several other foreign Specials. He was at least glad that Sanjog Iyer had agreed to join them at his mother's urging, even if he did sleep a lot, he noted, glancing to his other travel companion.

Then again, maybe this Micah was just paranoid, he pondered.

* * *

><p>"Well, that didn't take long," Noah Bennet mused as he and Matt Parkman watched as federal agents stormed the warehouse that had briefly been their base of operations. He and his daughter had gotten to see Peter's new twist on his abilities first hand as 'Hiro' stopped time long enough for the quartet to grab their belongings before teleporting them to the empty warehouse across the street. Matt kept a passive surveillance of any thoughts directed at them while Peter and Claire waited patiently for the "all clear" sign.<p>

"Who did you say called you?" Matt inquired.

"Don't know, but they told me to get 'the boys out of Jersey', so they knew you and Peter were here, already," Noah informed him. "I'd have to look over my files to see who could do that, much less who would be on our side, right now."

"I don't suppose it was Rebel?"

"No, too young. This was definitely an adult," he replied as he watched the federal SWAT team bustle in and out. They would find nothing of use to them.

"Maybe Angela could tell us?" Matt offered. "Or, I could, y'know?" he wiggled a finger between himself and Bennet.

Noah considered the offer, but passed. "No, maybe later, after we get away from here."

"Well, who do you think sent these guys, then?"

"You didn't read their minds?"

"I tried, but every single one is humming a different tune. I can't figure it out."

Bennet mused for a moment. "They're putting up mental shields, like when you and Ted broke into my home and I switched to Japanese?" he explained. Matt frowned at the memory, not his finest hour. "These people have been trained. Someone knew we might have telepaths on hand."

"Something left over from Danko?" Matt suggested.

"With any luck," he mused. "If it's someone else, we're in deep trouble," he said as the squad seemed to be clearing out. He motioned to Peter. "As soon as they're gone, I want you to do a sweep of the place. They probably left bugs to spy on us."

The lanky paramedic nodded and immediately shrunk down again into the appearance of their Japanese comrade, Hiro Nakamura. "Just tell me when."

"Matt, I'm going to need you to keep us in contact while he's over there," he asked the telepath. Matt nodded.

No sooner had the last van pulled away than Peter-as-Hiro disappeared from their side. Matt sat against the wall and reached out to his friend's mind.

"So far so good," Peter informed them with Matt echoing his thoughts to Bennet. "I don't suppose Matt could link us, so I know where to look for anything unusual?"

"Hang on a sec," Matt said as he grabbed Bennet's hand to get a better contact. Noah started to protest, but Matt gave him a smug grin and pushed his way into the bespectacled man's head. "Okay, Pete, you reading us over there?"

"Got it, Matt, thanks," he replied and continued searching.

Noah Bennet found it disconcerting to be sitting in one spot while his mind's eye roamed the corridors of the safe house across the street. "Are you still searching as Hiro?" he finally asked after a few minutes.

"Yeah, why?" Peter replied through Matt.

"Have you ever copied a young man by the name of Micah Sanders? A young technopath, who can read machines like Matt can minds."

Peter reverted to his regular form, then concentrated. "I think I know who you're talking about," he replied. He shifted again as he concentrated on the described ability.

Noah and Matt both jerked as they now saw the warehouse in a complex way of information streams running throughout the building. Matt was reminded of certain scenes in The Matrix. It took both some getting used to process the information they were observing.

Claire scowled at them, having been inadvertently left out of the loop. When she realized this, she excused herself to the bathroom. Getting no reply from her father or Matt, she smiled to herself.

Peter looked around the place, trying to orient himself in his new "Matrix-vision" he joked to himself. "I can hardly tell what I'm seeing here, Noah."

"Try concentrating on any data streams broadcasting in or out of the building," Bennet replied. "If there are any bugs, that should be the big tip off."

Peter concentrated. The images flowing through the three men's minds faded to a handful of signals. "Got it," he smiled and concentrated on turning the signals off. They blinked out.

"Good job, Peter," Noah commended him. "Do me a favor and grab the devices, we'll be over in a few minutes."

"Will do," Peter replied, adjusting his vision back to normal. He felt Noah's mind slip away as he passed by a window. He stopped and did a double take, then heard Matt roar with laughter as he pulled away. Peter groaned. He didn't recognize the face in the reflection, but Matt apparently had. He wondered just whose ability he had used, and what her name was.

"_Hana Gitelman_?" Noah asked in surprise.

"Yep, I remember her from when she and Ted asked me to take you down," Matt informed him as he picked himself up off the floor. "Whatever happened to her, anyway?"

"She died," came the succinct reply. Noah was distracted by the fact his daughter was nowhere to be found. "Matt, can you do a quick scan for Claire? Ask her where she is?"

"Probably just ran to the bathroom," Matt suggested, but then saw the annoyed look Noah was giving him. "Fine, I'll do it," he sighed, and reached out. "Claire? Where are you?"

What came back was a very rude response. Matt wondered where someone her age learned words like that.

Noah saw the momentary look of shock on Matt's face. "She ran off, didn't she?" he sighed.

"Uh...yeah?"

"Can you tell how far she got? Maybe we can go after her?"

"A few blocks away at least, and gaining ground," Matt told him. "I'm not sure which direction she went, either."

"I don't suppose you could draw me her location?"

"Huh? I don't-Oh, you mean that psychic drawing thing?" he asked. Noah nodded. "Yeah, I really haven't been able to do that in a while. The few times I have, Usutu pushed me into it."

"Usutu?"

"Yeah, this guy I met in Africa," Matt explained. "He painted these murals on the rocks out there. Mostly of me." He shivered, still unused to the idea of someone half a world away knowing all about his life long before they ever met.

"Like Isaac Mendez?" he suggested, only to get a blank look from Matt. "He drew the '9th Wonders' comic? It was because of Isaac that Peter went to Odessa to save Claire from Sylar at Homecoming. You painted over his floor mural in his loft?"

"What? Oh yeah, I guess?" the telepath replied. "Yeah, I think that the mural was the last time I was able to do that. That was only prodding from Peter and adrenaline from being hunted and on the run. I've tried since, but no luck."

"You're sure about that?"

"Yeah, I mean, Usutu came to me and had me draw some stuff right before Claire came to warn me about Nathan's plan. We got taken as I was showing them to her, then right after the crash, I drew a couple things, and nothing except the mural since?" he explained. "I can't explain why, but I think Usutu was making me do it. Mind linking our powers or something."

"Uh-huh," Noah sighed, disappointed. Having the artistic foresight advantage was now out of their artillery. Isaac's future paintings had all but used up any importance they could find. Even the 'President Petrelli' series were now useless. He was tempted to warn Matt about what Angela had said about his fate, but now realized that may change things for the worse. Matt was currently a reluctant accomplice, learning he might die soon would only drive him further away, possibly into his death. He needed the telepath by his side for the time being, if only for the man's own safety.

"Well, since you insist Claire is gone, maybe we should just rejoin Peter across the street?" he suggested.

Matt shrugged and grabbed his bags once more. He hoped things would settle down soon. He didn't like to live on the run. He just wanted to live a quiet life with his son and, hopefully, his wife. He decided that once this was over, he was never getting involved in Company nonsense again. He hoped to keep Matthew out of this, even if it was over his own dead body.

* * *

><p>The squad leader entered his superior's office. "The bugs were planted?"<p>

"Yes, sir, but we lost the signals almost immediately," Col. Davis reported.

"Hmm, that was not entirely unexpected," the man replied. "No matter," he shrugged, "this was just a test of their response time, anyway."

"Sir? This wasn't a drug bust?"

His superior chuckled to himself. "Colonel, is that what you were told to expect? Drug dealers?"

"Not exactly, sir," he replied. "We were merely told to sweep the place and plant the bugs."

"And that's all you expected to find?" he asked. "What sort of operation do you think you were chosen for, anyway?"

"Homegrown terrorists, sir," Davis replied. "I was formerly part of a task force in dealing with American terrorists under the supervision of Emile Danko, sir."

"You were part of the Building 26 operation?"

"Yes sir."

"And you never had firsthand experience in dealing with these so-called 'terrorists'?"

"No sir, the closest I came to one was a rabbit," he explained. "The quarry was alerted to our presence and eluded our team."

"Colonel, have you seen the news in the last week?"

"Sir? I'm sorry, I don't watch much TV, not even the news."

The man smiled. "You weren't dealing with terrorists. At least, not in the way the general public thinks of them."

"Sir? I'm sorry, I don't follow?"

"You are dealing with people who can make 9-11 seem like a fart in a hurricane," the man informed his subordinate.

Col. Davis raised an eyebrow at his superior officer. He thought the man was 'experiencing technical difficulties' as his late brother was wont to say.

The man opened a drawer, pulled out a folder labelled "Sylar" and tossed it on the desk. "Tell me what you think of these," he said.

Col. Davis opened the folder and felt weak in the knees. He grabbed the chair behind him and sank into it. The folder was full of pictures of people with their heads sliced open, some had their brains removed.

"We received this from our FBI liaison," he explained as Davis flipped through the file. "This 'Sylar' eluded a nationwide manhunt and killed all these people, possibly more. FBI thought they had him in Texas, but supposedly got the wrong man. The killings stop there for a time, and then sporadically pop up a few times after that. On top of that, there were a similar rash of murders a few decades back, same M.O. We're trying to find a connection."

Col. Davis didn't hear him. He had flipped one picture to find the last face he had expected to see. His heart pounded and he wanted to throw up. This had just become personal.

* * *

><p>Janice Parkman couldn't force herself to read her book. Her thoughts kept drifting back to the last fight she had with Matt as she tried to enjoy the peace of the swing on the back porch of her parents' lake house. Matthew had dozed off in the playpen as the sun crawled across the sky. He had finally stopped crying for his "dada" this morning.<p>

She hated herself for keeping her son away from his father, again, but after what he had revealed to her, could anyone blame her? The chaos that Matt had found himself in after leaving her the first time was no place for a baby, even if he did have an ability, too. Now with at least one Special having "come out", as it were, others were likely to do the same, and Matt had told her of this "Company" that had been running for decades keeping them all a secret. Could they control those who exposed themselves? What if-?

A knock at the front door shook her from her reverie. She glanced over to the driveway beside the house to see the edge of another vehicle parked on the far side of hers. She was so lost in her thoughts, she hadn't even heard it arrive, she realized.

She glanced to see Matthew was still asleep, then went in the back door and crossed the small house to the front door. "Yes, can I help you?" she asked the couple standing on her front porch through the screen door. She thought it odd the woman was wearing a veil as the well-groomed bearded man turned to smile at her.

"Good afternoon," he greeted her warmly. "My name is Reverend Joshua Carpenter, may I have a few minutes of your time to discuss Our Saviour, the Lord?"

"Oh, sorry," she replied, a nervous shiver down her spine. "My husband is Jewish and he'll be back any minute from the store."

"I'm sorry. You are Mrs. Parkman, correct?" he asked.

Alarm bells rang in Janice's head. No one knew she was out here. "No, I'm Mrs. Greenberg. My husband Phillip and I bought this place last month."

"She's lying. She's here alone...?" the woman said. She seemed unsure about this.

Janice looked to the woman in the veil. _How could she know? Is she like Matt? _ She suddenly wished Matt was really there with her at that moment.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Parkman, I don't like being lied to," Carpenter said.

"My husband's a cop," she told him. "I'll have you arrested."

"No, he's not," he replied, pulling open the door despite Janice's attempts to hold it closed. "He was fired from the NYPD as well as the LAPD, wasn't he? Abandoned his job, both times? Not very reliable, is he?"

"Get out of my house!" she demanded, making a break for it and running for the back door.

"You need to stop and listen to my husband," the woman told her.

Janice felt her arms grow heavy as she reached the back door. She couldn't bring herself to go any further. In fact, she found herself turning to face the intruding couple. "N-no, please," she pleaded. "Matthew!"

Rev. Carpenter raised an eyebrow in curiosity at this when they suddenly heard a baby cry out on the back porch. He glanced to his wife.

"Yes, he's the one," she said.

"No! Not my son!" Janice protested, fighting to run to her baby. "Not Matthew! NO!"

"He'll do. Fetch him." Carpenter told his wife then turned back to Janice. "What to do about you, hmm?"

Janice screamed for Matt to hear her inside her head.

He would never hear from her again.

* * *

><p>TBC_<p> 


	5. Ch4 Exposed

HEROES - Volume 6: Brave New World

Chapter 4: Exposed

Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable characters, just playing with Tim Kring's toys.

A/N - show canon; GN semi-canon/references. A couple OCs.

* * *

><p><strong>Albuquerque, NM<strong>

"Norm!"

Micah Sanders and his cousin Monica Dawson stared at their friend Sparrow Redhouse in amazement before returning their gazes back to the towering man who had barged into her house.

"I saw a strange car outside," the 6'10" man said. "I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Yeah, I'm fine, you big lug," she groused. "Ever hear of knocking?"

He shrugged, then noticed the two young strangers were still staring in awe. "Can I help you?"

"Holy cow, you're big," Monica blurted before she realized she said anything. He blinked in surprise before realizing he had just pulled on his jeans and a denim vest before running over.

"I'm sorry," Sparrow laughed, "Norm, these are my friends Micah Sanders and Monica Dawson, they're the ones who helped me escape the feds a while back. Micah, Monica, this is my cousin, Norman Littlefeather."

Norm eyed the pair, before settling on Micah. "You're Rebel?"

"Uh, yeah?" Micah answered.

Norm smiled. "So what do you think about the interview today?"

The cousins looked at each other in confusion. "what interview?" he asked.

"That blonde girl from Central Park? She's doing an interview today, supposed to explain everything."

"Claire?" Micah asked, turning to his cousin.

"Oh, sh-"

* * *

><p><strong>New York City<strong>

"Five minutes to air, Miss Bennet," the page informed Claire as she waited in the green room. Wendi, the show's make-up artist had just finished touching her up for the camera.

"Ok, thanks," she said meekly before turning back to the mirror, thinking how geeky it was her current outfit resembled her old high school cheerleader outfit. She had grabbed what she could afford at a thrift store, and didn't realize the resemblance until it was too late. She liked the red dress, and the white vest set it off nicely, she had thought.

"Nervous, honey?" Wendi asked.

"Yeah, just a little," she replied. "Kinda wish my dad or mom or a friendly face were here." _Like Peter or Gretchen_, she thought to herself.

"Don't worry, Andy has conducted thousands of interviews," she consoled the younger woman. "Just keep telling yourself you're talking to a friend. You have seen the show, before, right?"

"Yeah," the regenerator chuckled. "That's why I chose to come here for my first big interview. Besides, I always kinda thought he was cute," she confided, giggling.

"Between you and me, I've had a crush on him since I started," she whispered conspiratorially. "Too bad he's taken," she sighed.

Claire was about to ask what she meant about the presumably single talk show host, but a sudden commotion caught their attention from the hall.

"_CLAIRE!" _came a familiar bellow. She was glad and mortified to hear it at the same time.

"Dad? What are you doing here?" she asked as he pulled himself free of the station security guard with her uncle Peter and Matt Parkman in hot pursuit. The burly ex-cop gave an annoyed nod to the guard before setting sight on her. He didn't look any happier.

"I came to-"

"I'm doing the interview!" she announced.

"-offer my support," he finished.

"Wait-What?"

He shrugged. "I figured you needed someone to watch out for you. Not to mention if the interview gets too personal, we can control the flow of information that gets out," he explained.

"How do you propose we do that? I'm on air in a few minutes!" she exclaimed. "We're doing the show _live_!"

"Mr. Parkman here is willing to have me coach you through any difficult answers that might pose a problem," he explained.

Matt begrudgingly waved to acknowledge her as he leaned against the doorway, grimacing.

"I'm just here for moral support," Peter added.

The show page came running up to her. "One minute to air, he's already doing the lead-in, Miss Bennet." He took stock of the new trio. "Are these gentlemen with you?"

She nodded. "Yeah, yeah they are. We're doing the interview together," she beamed.

"Crap," he moaned, then spoke into his headset. "We need three more seats on stage, _NOW_," he said, motioning the group to follow him to the set. "All phones and et cetera off, please!" he warned as they approached the set. A flurry of other crew and the quartet were soon seated in the studio before the cameras and their host interviewer.

Right before they took the stage, Matt grabbed Peter's arm. "I don't think I'm ready to do this."

"Relax, Matt," he said. "Just smile and nod, you're basically here to tell Claire what not to say."

"Yeah, great. Let's just make sure no one gets shot this time, okay?" he whispered as he switched his cell to vibrate. Peter fought to maintain a straight face as they took their seats.

"-so please welcome the star of that controversial footage, and the reason we are shooting _live_ in the afternoon instead of filming for later tonight, Miss Claire Bennet!"

The quartet heard the audience applaud, even though they were mostly hidden in the semi-dark from the dais behind the cameras and stage lights, as they took their seats on the stage.

"Nice to finally meet you, Miss Bennet! Can I call you Claire?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess, Andy," she replied shakily, geeked at getting to meet the handsome blond talk show host in person.

"First off, can I ask: _can_ there be only one?"

She gave a confused, nervous laugh. "um, one what?"

Knowing his joke fell flat, even from the handful who managed laugh in the audience, Andy decided to find out who had accompanied her at the last second. "And who are these three gentlemen? Last minute additions I'm told?" he inquired, glancing off to the stage manager, who held up his hands indicating he had no idea. "Big guy there looks like he's your security force?" he chuckled.

Matt didn't. _I could hurt you without breaking a sweat_, he informed the man, mentally. Andy gave a nervous laugh when he realized Matt's mouth didn't move. "Heheh. Okay, then."

"Yeah, uh, this is my father," she motioned to her right.

"Noah Bennet," he introduced himself. "Pleased to meet you, Andy."

"And what can you do?" he asked.

"I'm sorry?"

"Well, your daughter can obviously hurt herself and heal without too much trouble, I'm sure everybody is just curious if it runs in the family?"

Noah opened his mouth to say something, but Claire interrupted. "He's not really-I mean, I'm adopted."

"Adopted? So you're really some strange visitor from another world?" Andy quipped, getting a rim shot from his band drummer.

Noah forced a chuckle, while Claire groaned. "Moving on, this is my real uncle, Peter," she motioned to the man sitting on a stool behind the other three. He nodded in acknowledgement.

Andy eyed the young man for a moment. "I know you, don't I? Haven't I seen you on TV, before?"

Peter laughed and glanced to Matt. "You could say that. My brother was Nathan Petrelli. He was a Senator from New York." Cheers came from the local New Yorkers in the audience, even if they didn't recognize the name.

"Wasn't that the Senator who died in that plane accident?" Andy inquired. "Uh, yikes. No offense, I just-"

"Yeah," Peter admitted somberly. "Yeah, that was Nathan."

Andy glanced between Claire and Peter. "If you say he's your uncle, then does that make Nathan-?"

Noah rolled his eyes as his plan was already falling apart. "Oh boy, here we go."

"Yeah, Nathan was my dad," she admitted. "Well, my bio-dad. I didn't know until a short time ago, right after I discovered what I could do."

"And again, if you can do this thing, what about your father? Or his brother?" he pointed to Peter. "And who's this guy?" he pointed to Matt, who gave him an annoyed look.

"We've got it!" came the producer's voice from off set, and motioning to Andy. Matt was secretly relieved at the interruption, but soon wished he wasn't.

"We've got what? Some sort of footage?" he asked the man. "Of Petrelli?"

The group looked to the monitors and saw Peter and Matt flanking Nathan in Odessa. "My name is Nathan Petrelli and I have-"

"Okay! Can we _please not_ show that to the audience at home?" Claire exclaimed. The cameras cut back to her. "Yes, that was my father getting shot on live TV, and I really don't think anyone really wants to watch that again, especially not _me_."

"Okay, alright, I understand, but those other two guys up there, those are you two guys, right?" he asked Peter and Matt, who each nodded their reluctant confirmation. "And what were you three doing in that press conference? It almost looks like Senator Petrelli was about to say he could do something? Is this true?"

"Just for the record, Nathan did survive that GSW," Peter announced, before correcting himself, "uh, gunshot wound."

"GSW? What are you, a doctor?" Andy joked.

"As a matter of fact, I am a trained nurse and EMT," he replied, smirking proudly.

"So we've got a girl who can heal as the daughter of a senator, and his brother is a nurse? What else can you do?"

"Lots of things," he said simply.

"Alright. So far, we've got a one-off stunt on live TV, a dead Senator, a nurse who can do 'lots of things', and a step-dad who looks like he just stepped out of the Cold War. Is that right?" He glanced to the various guests, before centering on Matt. "And Dumbo."

Noah turned to Matt. "Want to show him?"

"My pleasure," he said angrily and gave Andy the stink-eye.

Andy turned to the camera. "Folks, is it me, or does anyone else feel the need to strip down naked and squawk like a chicken?" he asked. "Speaking of chicken strips, can I dunk my eggs in your sweet'n'sour sauce, honey? Wait-_Mom? _What are you doing here? Oh my gawd, what are you doing with...Tom Selleck? And is that wrestling's The Big Show? Stop that, right now you perverts! That's my _mom_! In lemon Jell-O?"

The audience went from nervous quiet to mild laughter as Andy described what he was seeing. They had no clue if this was a staged stunt or skit, but assumed it was or that Andy had suddenly lost his mind.

"I've never been able to admit it out loud, but I love you, Paul! I don't care who knows!" he exclaimed, hugging thin air and puckering his lips.

"Okay, I think we went a little too far with that one," Matt said, releasing the man from his control as his tongue snaked out. Leaning forward into the camera, he said, "Folks, that was just me messing with Andy's head in fun. None of what he said was real. No need to worry, I can't do it over the airwaves. You're all safe from me." He fought the urge to add "_or are you?" _and some evil sounding laughter.

Andy looked around as if confused. "Um. What just happened?" He grabbed his desk as if centering himself.

"Oh, I just had to get even for the Dumbo crack," Matt told him. "No one even knows who Paul is."

Andy blanched and nearly fell back out of his chair. "P-Paul?" he asked nervously. "N-No, I don't know any Paul," he repeated and motioned to his producer to go to commercial.

"And we're out! Back on in two, everybody!" the man shouted, then motioned to the studio band to play something.

Andy leaned over his desk and glared at Matt. "What -The _Fuck_- did you just do to me?" he hissed, covering his desk microphone.

"I didn't want to be here to begin with," Matt told him. "Besides, I already covered your ass on the Paul thing. Like anybody really cares."

Andy glared at Noah. "Keep your dog leashed, buddy. What else can you people do?"

"Me? I can't do anything," Bennet replied calmly. "I'm just here to support my daughter."

"Look, if anyone asks, that was just a fun side skit we improv'ed, okay?"

"Whatever," Matt shrugged and pretended to pick a piece of lint off his pant leg. Andy gave him a dirty look before being distracted by his earpiece.

"And back in 5, 4, 3-," the producer shouted, motioning the last two seconds.

"Ha ha! And we're back with more Andy After Hours, folks!" Andy said cheerily. "Actually, today's show is more 'Andy in the Afternoon,' since we are live, right now. We hope you liked that little _improv_ we did before the break!" He gave an obviously forced smile.

The camera made a quick cut to a bored Matt, who was watching the band settle back down after playing through the unplanned break.

"I'm being told that because we've actually gone to a live broadcast with this particular guest, um, _guest_s, other networks are actually picking us up, too?" he asked his producer, who gave a thumbs up. He grinned excitedly before turning back to his guests. "Wow. Yeah, so anyway, Claire, you were saying you only found out you could do this super fast healing recently?"

"Well, not just recently, but yeah, fairly recently," she explained. "It was by accident, of course. Not that I was really sick or anything before this," she turned to Noah. "Was I?"

"Not that I recall offhand or your mother ever mentioned," he said, giving her a look of caution.

"So, uh, Mr. Bennet? Did this come as a big shock to you when you found out what your adopted daughter could do?"

"You might say that," he replied, eyeing her.

"And how did you find out? What happened to her that had her healing right in front of you the first time?"

Matt suddenly launched into a coughing fit at the question. Noah patted him on the back as a page came running up with a bottled water. _Keep it together, Parkman,_ he warned the man mentally, knowing Matt was probably remembering the time he and Ted Sprague had taken the family hostage and Matt had unwillingly shot Claire to distract Ted from nuking them all.

"Looks like someone knows the answer to that one!" Andy joked, getting a death stare from Matt in return.

"Yeah, I'd sure hate to cast a _pall_ over your fun parade, huh?" Matt shot back. Andy decided it was best not to antagonize the larger man any further. _Damn straight, _Matt thought to him in reply, not even realizing the double entendre.

"I fell," Claire blurted out. "I fell and cut my hand, it totally healed in like a day or two. That's how we found out."

"You found out you could heal super-fast from simply falling?" Andy asked.

"Well, it was into a glass cabinet," she explained.

"I should caution: kids, do _not_ try this at home!" Noah announced. "Please, no self-inflicted injuries, jumping off roofs or running into traffic, or anything dangerous to see if you can fly, heal, or anything!"

"Yes, good advice! Great advice!" Andy agreed, holding up a note card. "I'm also told that certain comic book publishers have already issued statements that anyone caught dressing up and acting as real life vigilantes will not only be open to full prosecution as their local laws allow, but also, if they are dressed up as any _known_ comic book character, will open themselves up to copyright infringement and further prosecution. Is that right?" he looked off to his producer.

"That's what we're being told to say," the man concurred.

"So, that means no costumes or cos-play heroism?" he asked before adding quickly, "Outside of the bedroom, that is!" he chuckled. The audience laughed in reply.

"You ain't gonna see _me_ wearing any damn spandex," Matt muttered just loud enough for the microphone to pick up.

"Oh, I didn't plan on doing any more of that," Claire replied to Andy, not realizing the implication towards what Matt had just grumbled.

Andy paused and looked into the camera before turning back to Claire. "Any more of _what_?" he echoed.

"_YATTA!_"

"What the heck was that?" Andy asked, looking around.

Hiro Nakamura stepped out from behind where Peter was sitting. "I am Hiro Nakamura, and I, too, have great power!" he announced, striking a heroic pose. Peter and Claire chuckled as Matt rolled his eyes, fighting a smirk.

Before he could say any more, Noah cut him off. "What I think our friend Mr. Nakamura means is that we've learned about numerous individuals _worldwide_ with abilities. This isn't a totally American thing."

"So, you're saying we could have World War III between literal super-powers?" Andy asked.

"I would hope it doesn't come to that," Bennet cautioned. "I would hope that those who find out they have these abilities continue to use caution and don't draw any undue attention to themselves, lest someone -_anyone_- take advantage of them and abuse their gifts."

"Certainly, you're not suggesting the government-"

"I said no such thing," Noah calmly replied, glancing to the camera with a knowing look. "Certain parties have been aware of the existence of people like my daughter for quite a while. There have been previous attempts to press these people into private service or containment and they have failed." His four compatriots gave him nervous glances. Matt winced and turned away, remembering Daphne's sacrifice.

"Heh, okay, moving on," Andy nervously changed the subject, lest the DHS come storming in, or worse, remove his biggest news story from being broadcast. "What's the wildest power you've come across, then?"

Peter and Matt shared a nervous look. _Do not mention Ted!_ Matt told his friend before glancing to Bennet, who sensed their unease. Matt broadcast "_No names!_" in warning to the others without being told to by Bennet.

"Uh, I met a guy who could turn an empty valley into a wild forest," Claire answered. "It totally wiped him out, though," she added.

"Really? That might come in useful in certain areas of the globe. Helping out in turning deserts into farmland," Andy noted before turning to the others. "What about you guys?"

"I knew a guy who could, uh, turn your fear into his strength," Matt told him. "Before he died, that is."

"Yikes, that's weird," Andy said and turned to Peter. "Anything weird from you?"

Peter thought a moment before answering, "Besides meeting my future self? Probably the ability to put someone inside another person's body," he chuckled to himself.

Andy couldn't hide his amusement. "I believe we've all done that, haven't we?" he laughed into the camera as Claire blushed once she realized what he was referring to.

"My friend, he makes red lightning!" Hiro announced. "He is very powerful! He can supercharge anyone!"

"Yeah, don't remind me," Matt muttered, rubbing his temple at the memory of being the first to get a taste of Ando's ability. _Thanks for not mentioning my son_, he thanked Hiro mentally. Hiro blinked in confusion before he caught on Matt didn't say anything out loud. He winked in reply.

"So, uh, do you all see these powers as a gift or blessing?"

"Yes!" Hiro exclaimed. "I follow the hero's path!"

"Kinda," Peter and Claire agreed.

Matt kept his own counsel as his cell phone began buzzing in his pocket. He pulled it out and glanced at the caller ID: Janice. "Excuse me a minute, will ya?" he said and left the dais. The exuberant Hiro quickly jumped into his vacated seat before looking after Matt nervously as if he suddenly remembered something.

"Okay then, that's one definite yes, two maybe's and one no comment?" Andy informed the camera before turning back to his guests. "Mr. Bennet, you seem to know a lot about these people. Why is that?"

Bennet had been distracted by Matt and Hiro's swapping places beside him. "I'm sorry?"

"Just how many people like yourselves are out there? Rough estimate?"

"I'm afraid I can't answer-"

"Hundreds!" Hiro exclaimed. "There is genetic code that-"

"Hiro!" Bennet scolded, cutting him off.

"So it's a genetic thing, you're mutants like the X-Men?" Andy inquired. "No super-secret super formula injected into all of you?" He noticed his guests all seemed to flinch at his mention of the word formula.

"I think what Mr. Nakamura is proposing that the existence of a handful of beings like himself and my daughter in the general population, even a tiny fraction of a percent within the global population which is nearing seven billion, must be in the dozens, even hundreds. Whether this is true or not, I cannot say."

Hiro gave him an annoyed look, but agreed with what he said.

"Uh-huh," Andy replied, clearly not believing him. "And what about Claire's real father, her 'bio-dad' Nathan Petrelli?"

"Flying Man?" Hiro blurted again.

Bennet leaned over to him, whispering, "Hiro, will you _please_ be quiet? You might be ruining everything!" Hiro frowned at his scolding.

"Senator Petrelli could fly?" Andy repeated incredulously, glancing back to Peter. "Is this true?"

Peter hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah, but he didn't care for it. He liked flying _inside_ an aircraft, which, I might point out, his ability did not help him in surviving his plane accident. He was a decorated Navy pilot, in fact, before we were aware of these abilities."

"So you admit your brother and niece had super-powers, what about the rest of the family?" Andy inquired. "You? Mom and Dad? Sweet old Aunt Petunia? What's the deal?"

"I, uh, I can't say," Peter told him.

"What about any other kids? Any brothers or sisters, Claire?" he continued, realizing he really had the story of the century if someone like this had made it into Congress. Especially if this so-called 'Flying Man' had a brood of super-kids.

"I think this interview is over," Noah declared.

"Yeah, can you see me waving behind the others?" Matt suddenly interrupted, rejoining the group from behind the stage while talking into his phone.

"What about you, big guy?" Andy provoked him. "Any more mutants like you at home?"

Matt gave him a dirty look, before his face drained of color. "W-What did you say? W-Where is she?" He motioned Peter over.

"Matt? What's wrong?" he asked, turning away from their host.

Hiro glanced over to Matt with concern. "Oh, no," he whispered. "I was too distracted with fame to warn him!" Bennet glanced to Hiro with a raised eyebrow.

Matt looked down at his phone. "Janice. Something's happened to Janice. I-I need to get home. Now." His voice was shaky, cracking. He projected their destination to his friend, his eyes pleading.

"Sure thing," Peter said, morphing into Hiro as he grabbed Matt by the arm. The pair disappeared before the cameras.

The audience erupted. Some in screams of surprise. Some in applause, thinking it was a stunt. Others sat as stunned as Andy on the dais.

"What the fu-um, oh boy," he caught himself, glancing to the camera and his producer. "Did that just happen? Petrelli turned into the, uh, Japanese guy's twin and disappeared with the fat man?"

Hiro looked to the Bennets with a sad expression. "I am sorry. I was too late." They could only look at him in confusion.

"Folks, uh, um, please, can I have your attention?" he begged over the growing clamor in the studio. He looked back to where Peter and Matt had stood moments before. "Oh man, this is gonna get me some awards!" he exclaimed.

* * *

><p>Angela Petrelli turned off her television and reached for her phone.<p>

"Were you watching? Are they ready? It's already begun. For what it's worth, I'm sorry for your loss."

She glanced to the files on her desk, picking up the one with a familiar blonde face. Her face drew up in a disgusted grimace.

* * *

><p>West Rosen stared at his monitor. "Well, I guess the cat's out of the bag, now."<p>

He kicked his dorm room's trash can over. "She better not drag me into this."

* * *

><p><strong>Virginia<strong>

Gretchen Berg stared at the TV in the common room. "Oh, Claire!" she whispered under her breath. She ignored the other students who were making a big deal out of the fact someone they went to school with was now making history on live TV. Gretchen just wanted her friend back.

* * *

><p><strong>California<strong>

Officer Daniel Bloom picked up the woman's cell phone and checked the last handful of calls. The last one was to 'Matt' after 'Mom'. There was no time length listed for his call. From what they had already learned, 'Matt' was likely her husband, and formerly on the Job. He gave a weary sigh and pressed Send.

After several rings, someone finally answered. "Yeah, Jan? What's up? I'm kinda in the middle of something, right now," Matt answered from offside the talk show stage.

"Is this Mr. Parkman?"

Matt's attention went to red alert. "Who is this? Why do you have my wife's phone?" he demanded.

"Mr. Parkman, this is Officer Bloom. Can I ask where you are at this moment?"

Matt blanched. _Not Good_. "Turn on the TV."

"Excuse me?" he asked, motioning to another officer to turn the TV on.

"Turn on the TV, I'm on, uh, Andy? Yeah, Andy, right now," he informed the other officer. "Yeah, can you see me waving behind the others?"

"Hang on, we're switching to Andy-wait, this is on every channel? What's going on?"

"W-what did you say?" Matt asked.

"Sir, are you really in New York at this moment on live TV?" he asked as another officer grabbed a photo off a shelf and held it to the screen for comparison. "Mr. Parkman, I'm sorry. Your wife, she-you need to get here as soon as possible, Mr. Parkman."

"W-Where is she?" he asked, focusing on the man's voice for a moment. That moment was all he needed. He was actually surprised that worked over the phone, much less across the country, but he had no time to think about that for that now as he motioned to Peter.

"Sir, we're at a residence on Lake-hello? Mr. Parkman?" he asked, realizing the line went dead. "He hung up?" he told the other officer, who looked away from the screen in shock. "What? What just happened? Was that him on there?"

"Yeah, that was me, where the hell is my wife?" Matt demanded, arriving behind him.

Daniel Bloom turned to see the man who had been on live TV in New York City, the other side of the country, now stand before him. His companion was a frumpy Asian man one moment, who became a tall, lean, long-haired Caucasian the next. The burly man's eyes knitted, seeming to examine Bloom for a moment, then he turned and bolted out the back door.

"Janice!" Matt bellowed as he ran to the back porch. He stopped and stared at his son's empty playpen before turning at the sound of a familiar metallic clank.

The paramedics were lowering a stretcher before loading it into the ambulance. The body on the stretcher was in a black bag.

"No," Matt whispered under his breath as Peter and Bloom followed him outside. "_NO!" _he screamed as he ran to the stretcher, Peter on his heels. _"Janice!"_

"Matt! Wait!" Peter called after him.

The paramedics and police stepped back to allow him access. Peter wasn't sure if Matt made them or they were just getting out of his way to keep from being knocked over.

Matt knelt beside the stretcher, hands shaking as they reached for the zipper. "Janice?" he asked again. "Please, no-"

"Matt, don't," Peter cautioned, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Don't put yourself through this." Matt shrugged him off and forced himself to open the bag.

Janice Parkman's lifeless, water-logged body lay inside.

"_no_."

"Matt-"

Matt stood and turned away. Peter watched as his body shuddered, trying to contain the flood of emotions that were coming. Matt stumbled past the small group of emergency personnel and the tow truck to her car. He placed his hands on the roof to steady himself and hung his head. Peter waved off the others and could hear him sobbing as he approached.

"I'm sorry, Matt," he reached out to the man, grabbing his shoulders.

"Oh god-I just-we-" he began, then stopped. "Where is it?"

"What? Matt, what's wrong?"

Matt turned to his lanky friend. "Matthew's car seat. It's not in here," he said. "Where's my son?" he asked Peter before bellowing again to the emergency personnel, "_Where's my son?"_

The handful of cops gave each other confused looks. Bloom looked back to the playpen on the porch. His heart sank.

"_Where the hell is my son?_" Matt demanded as Peter fought him to keep him under control.

* * *

><p><strong>Tokyo, Japan<strong>

Hiro Nakamura and Ando Masashi stared at each other across the conference table in their sub-leased office at Yamagato.

"What do you think she's going to do?" Ando asked his friend.

Hiro shrugged. "I do not know. What would you do?"

"Write a book?" he suggested.

"Go on talk shows?" Hiro countered.

The duo stared at each other a long moment. Both went for their laptops.

"Who would you talk to first? Oprah?" Hiro suggested.

"If I were a woman," Ando mused. "Where would you go if you were a teenager?"

"MTV!" Hiro exclaimed.

"Huh? I thought Carson Daly retired his show for more reality programming?"

"Oh. I forgot," Hiro realized as he searched the net for streaming broadcasts. "Regis?" he suggested.

Ando glanced to his laptop clock and shook his head. "Too early. Too old."

"What's that one with all the old ladies?"

Ando shook his head again. "Remember, who would you pick as a teenager?" he reminded his friend. "Wait, is she in college yet?"

"I do not know?"

"But if you wanted to stay hip to the other teens, who would you watch?"

Hiro thought a long moment. "But didn't they fire-?"

"A-ha!" Ando exclaimed as he pulled up a streaming website. A familiar TV face was talking to several other faces familiar to them. "Uh-oh, Matt doesn't look too happy."

Hiro shrugged in agreement as he sidled up to his best friend. They watched as Andy made small talk, easing into the Big Reveal they knew had to be coming.

"Where is Matt Parkman going?" Hiro asked, noting their friend leaving his chair.

"He's pulling out his phone," Ando noted as they continued to keep an eye on him in the background. He waved to someone they assumed to be watching at home. The overexcited Hiro waved back. "I wonder who that is to pull him away from his-?"

The words died on his tongue. They watched as Matt screamed out in anguish and dropped to his knees. Peter and Claire rushed to his side as they watched the large man break down over the live broadcast.

"I must go! He has to be warned not to take that call!" Hiro announced.

Before he could dissuade his friend it was too late, Hiro disappeared from his side as time seemed to rewind itself for a moment. Ando rubbed his eyes as his friend bellowed out "Yatta!" on the monitor and joined the quartet on the dais. Ando couldn't help but fight the sense of déjà vu as he watched Matt leave the group a minute later, noting a look of concern on his time-traveling friend's face.

* * *

><p><strong>New York City<strong>

Noah Bennet pulled his daughter and their Japanese associate backstage. "What do you know, Hiro?" he demanded.

"Nothing, I swear," he pleaded innocently.

"I saw you give Matt a funny look when he got that call," Noah countered. "Who was it? What happened to his wife?"

"I do not know," he repeated.

"What happened? Why did you come here?"

"Ando and I saw you on the internet, I saw Matt Parkman take his call and collapse," he explained. "I meant to warn him, but I was distracted by the audience and lights," he admitted dejectedly. "I have failed my friend," he pouted.

"You don't know what happened?"

"No," he whined.

Noah sighed and turned to his daughter. "Claire, try and call Peter. See if he knows anything, yet," he ordered. "I'm going back out there and try to salvage this disaster."

Claire nodded and did as she was told as her father left her with Hiro. "Tell Matt Parkman I am sorry," he told her.

She nodded and hugged him around the shoulders. "He's not answering," she informed him as the call went to voicemail. "Peter? It's Claire, we just wanted to know if everything was alright. Call me back as soon as you can. Thanks." She glanced back to the stage, where her father once more took his seat with Andy.

"Alright, we're back, and it seems we've lost a few more of our guests?" Andy asked Noah.

"They're actually backstage, waiting for word from our other two friends," he explained.

"So you seem to be sort of the ringleader behind this, am I correct?"

"How do you mean?" Bennet replied coyly.

"You seem to have many answers well prepared, and appear to be more knowledgeable for someone who found out his daughter could do something nobody else can. Would you care to explain that? Does it have anything to do with what you were saying about 'other parties' having knowledge about these, what do you call them, mutants, supers, what?"

"I call them people, Andy," he replied. "Just ordinary, average folk, who happen to have special talents."

"So 'Specials' then? I guess that gives new meaning to the Special Olympics," he quipped. The audience laughed. Bennet remained stoic. "But seriously, this is going to make people question people who do perform in the Olympics, like that bicyclist, who has already been studied. They say his body processes fatigue toxins more efficiently than the average person. Would you consider him one of your, uh, Specials?"

"I think I know who you're talking about, and no, I consider him to be someone who has trained very hard to get where he is today," Noah explained. "I bear him no ill will and I hope you haven't just called all of those athletes into question who perform at the top of their game after years of dedicated training."

"Oh, far from it, I was just throwing him out as an example," Andy concurred. "But you do have to admit, people are going to ask questions like these of anyone who seems to excel at what they do, am I right?"

Noah gave a wry smile. "You mean like certain celebrities who have a general charisma and no one can find anything bad to say against them?"

Andy gave a nervous chuckle. "I'm not sure what you mean?"

"People already complain about 'manufactured celebrity', those people who are famous for not doing much of anything besides being famous," he explained. "Why not start with those people? Celebrities who have large followers for no reason. A face that only encourages fans, a voice that sells millions of records, videos, what have you. A name that is easily recognizable and liked. Who's to say those people aren't, as you say, 'special' in their own way, influencing others to follow them without ever realizing it?"

"So you're suggesting that some celebrities may have an ability to attract followers without realizing it?"

"Isn't there always someone in a group who seems to have no trouble doing anything they want? From getting promotions to getting lovers, to getting away with just about anything else?"

"Surely, you're not talking about former President Bush?" he chuckled. The audience laughed.

"I cannot endorse or condone anyone as anything but what the public already sees them as," Bennet responded slyly.

"Are you sure you're not some government agent sent here to ease the public's mind about these people?"

"What do you mean 'these people'?"

"People with abilities like your daughter's and her family," Andy clarified. "Sure, the big guy could be related, as well, but I don't know that. I do know the Japanese guy-"

"Mr. Nakamura."

"-Mr. Nakamura, he can't possibly be related, could he?" he inquired. "Surely, there's not some secret 'super soldier' program giving out super powers like Captain America, is there?"

"Not that I am aware of," Noah replied.

"Well then, where did these abilities, these super powers come from? I'm sure that is what everybody wants to know."

Noah smiled. "Scientists say the human race began in Africa. Taking that into account, how is it you and I are white and have lighter hair when the majority of Africans as a whole, are dark skinned with black hair? What made us different from them, or the Asian races different from the rest of us? Do you know only 4% of the world has red hair? And that is across racial divides. Malcolm X was a redhead, you know?"

"Now you're getting into the whole Evolution versus Creationism debate, sir," Andy acknowledged. "Do you want to open that particular can of worms? Modern man descended from apes and all that?"

"No, but we shared a common ancestor," Bennet corrected. "I recently read about a couple in the UK who had a healthy white, blonde baby, despite being of African origin themselves, no known trace of mixed heritage, whatsoever. This particular child was not an albino, as does occur from time to time, again across racial divides. Why did that occur? If you can answer that, then you might have the answer to why some of these people have abilities."

"Interesting proposition, you have there," Andy noted.

"Then what about -pardon me if this gets a bit confusing- there is a couple who had fraternal twins, one white and one black, and the parents were both mixed, due to both of their parents being mixed couples? Granted, the odds were that the children would have shared their parents' mixed heritage as opposed to the Caucasian features dominant in one, while the African heritage dominant in the other," he explained before continuing. "Doctors have long acknowledged that some features can sometimes skip a generation. Two brown eyed parents may have a blue eyed child like one of their grandparents or great-grandparents may have had."

"So you're saying some of these Special people may have had a common ancestor at some point?"

"Scientists are saying that most of today's population can be traced back to a certain area, and only a handful of ancestors," Noah informed him. "Despite all that, we as a group still find reasons to hate on our fellow man for the flimsiest of reasons: skin-tone, religion, location, speech, fill-in-the-blank orientation, what have you."

"Again, very good points you bring up, and something I hope our viewers at home think about," Andy agreed, noting his producer was giving him the sign to wrap it up. "Folks, this is obviously a new situation we will have to deal with, and I hope we've given you some food for thought. I hope we will have more to bring you on this, soon. Mr. Bennet, I thank you and your friends for stopping by."

"Like a show I caught once said, 'they' have been here for a very long time," Bennet said before turning to the camera. "I again urge anyone out there with abilities not to go out and start taking crime into their own hands, let the authorities handle it. We don't need any vigilantes out there, costumed or not. If you are being bullied or attacked, for any reason, I suggest you seek help."

"I don't suppose you have a website or anything for those in need to turn to yet?"

"Not at this time, no, but I'm sure we will have something soon," he acknowledged. "In the meantime, I would suggest turning to the usual hotlines and resources for help."

"Okay, then, thanks again for stopping by and for that impromptu display of powers," Andy said. "I hope whatever it is that pulled your friends away wasn't that bad."

"I hope not, either," he agreed as the producer stated they were out.

Noah rejoined Claire and Hiro as soon as he could. "Any word from Peter or Parkman?"

"No, nothing yet," she informed him. "I don't suppose that means it was good news?"

Noah looked to Hiro, whose worried expression gave his answer. "Somehow, I don't think so," he said as his phone began buzzing. He wasn't surprised to expect hearing from her already. "Yes, Angela, how can I help you?"

"First off, I think we could have handled that a little better," she informed him.

"It could have been worse," he replied.

"Secondly, I have some information you need to see," she continued. "In fact, it might just explain where my son and Mr. Parkman ran off to."

Noah Bennet's face grimaced slightly as he looked to his two companions. "We'll be right there," he said and closed his phone. "Mr. Nakamura, I need you to do us a quick favor." He glanced over as the studio security was talking to several NYPD officers. They were looking their way. "Real quick."

* * *

><p>"He's crying again," Joshua Carpenter noted. "The whole house's electric keeps flickering."<p>

"I'm sorry, he seems to be immune to my suggestions," she answered.

He considered this a moment. "Just in case, keep him at arm's length. I don't want to take the chance he can turn off your sway over him or others. Is that understood?"

Barbara nodded. "Yes. I can have one of the other church mothers help out watching him."

"If they ask-?"

"He's my nephew. We're watching him while my cousin is in the hospital," she replied. "I've been feeling a little under the weather and don't want him getting sick, too."

"Very good," he smiled. "No one needs to know the truth about him until we're ready to show the world what these people can really do."

She nodded obediently and left his office.

"Once we expose these freaks, we won't have any opposition to killing them," he said to himself, glancing at the file before him on the child's father. "Matt Parkman and his child will only be the first to fall in this crusade."

* * *

><p>TBC_<p>

A/N: I argued with myself who would be the talk show host, just like Hiro and Ando. I decided Claire would probably go to someone _she_ would watch over the expected big name like Anderson Cooper/Katie Couric/Matt Lauer. So just pretend that "Andy" is a mash between Cooper and Andy Richter (ok, I read/write him as Richter! HAPPY?), since she would probably go for a late night host. I also had to throw in the "didn't he get fired?" jab. TEAM COCO! Btw, "Paul" is NOT Mr. Schaeffer on the other network! LOL FYI: Andy's birth name is "Paul Andrew", so...?)

And yes, our favorite make-up artist/tweeter got a shout out! Just pretend the security guard works in Props, too. ;)


	6. Ch5 All Fall Down

HEROES - Volume 6: Brave New World

Chapter 5: All Fall Down

Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable characters, just playing with Tim Kring's toys.

A/N - show canon; GN semi-canon/references. A couple OCs.

* * *

><p>"<em>Where the hell is my son?"<em>

"Matt, calm down, okay?" Peter cautioned.

"Some sick bastard killed my wife and kidnapped my son, Peter!" Matt screamed. "No, I am _not_ gonna calm down!"

"Come on now, these guys are on your side," he tried to reason. "They're police and EMT, we're police and EMT. Let's show them we can be-"

"Shut the fuck up, Petrelli!"

Peter motioned to the others to stay back. "Okay, I tried being reasonable, let's do it the hard way," he declared. "Who are you really mad at?" he asked, shifting his features. "Come on, Matt. Tell me," came the dulcet sneer.

"You son of a bitch!" Matt screamed and charged at 'Sylar.' He began beating on the man with a flurry of fists. "You used me! You threatened my child and raped my wife! You sick bastard!"

Peter wasn't prepared for Matt's assaults, physical or verbal. Gabriel hadn't gone into much detail about what he had done in Matt's body. Least of all tricking Janice into sex with him as Matt.

"Come on, Parkman, is that the best you got?" Peter goaded him, using his telekinesis to soften the blows.

"_Fuck you! _I already tried to sacrifice myself to kill you, you fucking monster!"

Peter had already been aware of how Matt wound up shot the second time, having healed his friend when he and Nath-no, Gabriel thinking he was Nathan, had gone to Odessa to find him in the hopes of finding a lead on Sylar. Neither had known what their mother had forced Matt to do to save her first born child before then. Had Matt died then, Sylar would have died with him, and Nathan-? Would Nathan have stayed himself or lost his battle to Gabriel? It was a question Peter couldn't answer, but he had to help Matt overcome his anger over that. He shifted again. He hoped Matt would understand why he had to do this.

"Who's the real monster, Matt?" he taunted.

Matt stepped back and held up a hand. "Don't, Peter, I'm warning you."

"Come on, fat man. Bring it," Matt taunted himself. "You had the guts to force a killer into becoming someone else, then even tried to commit suicide," he goaded.

Matt started to turn away. "Don't."

"You abandoned your wife and child. Twice." A dark grin spread on his face. "Who's the real monster, here?"

The real Matt turned and laid a roundhouse blow on his own face in one move.

Peter-Matt rubbed his jaw on the ground. "Couldn't even read to pass the detective's exam, could you? Had to ask your girlfriend in the FBI for help, didn't you?"

Matt kicked himself hard in the ribs. "I can read. I'm dyslexic, I get by," he said in quiet anger.

Peter grunted with the blow. "And speaking of girlfriends and leaving, what about Daphne? You left her dead body behind in a hospital. You didn't even say a word to anyone about who she really was, did you? Not even her fa-"

Matt was on his double with his large hands around his thick neck. "_Shut up! Shut the fuck up!" _he screamed as he squeezed with all his might.

"And what about Molly?" he choked.

"I didn't abandon her! I tried to save her! It was Danko! He-" Matt stopped and realized his friend's face was fading back to normal and he was gasping for air for real. "Danko killed her," he continued in a calmer tone, still straddling Peter. "Mohinder sent Molly away without telling me." Tears started to roll down Matt's face. He sat back, still on Peter's legs. "My god, I fucked up, didn't I? I fucked up and people I loved died. Daphne, Jan, I couldn't even save Nathan," he sobbed. "I-I'm sorry."

Peter tried to sit up as much as he could with Matt still straddling him. "Molly's still alive," he choked, rubbing his throat. "So is your son, Matt. We can still save them."

"I hope so, Peter," he cried. "I really hope so."

Officer Bloom slowly approached them, hand on his weapon. "Uh, I'm not sure what we just saw, but if either of you make a move-?"

Matt looked up to him in confusion, having forgotten about the police presence during his fight with Peter. "You can put that away," he suggested to the officer. "We're done arguing." He held his hand out and Bloom helped him stand up, then Matt helped Peter to his feet. "Sorry about that," he mumbled.

"It's okay, I made you," Peter smirked. "Totally my fault."

"Save it for later, we need to find my son," Matt replied.

Bloom didn't even realize he had closed the clasp on his service pistol until later.

* * *

><p>Col. Davis entered his new C.O.'s office.<p>

"Are you kidding me? I recorded it," he said, chuckling proudly into the phone as he motioned the soldier to take a seat. "I'm prepping the squad leader as we speak," he replied to the other person. "How soon do you think-? Oh." His face grew dark. "Yes, well, some sacrifices have to be made. Are you sure _he's_ safe, though?"

The colonel waited for his commander's reply, but then heard the dial-tone coming from the handset. The man almost slammed down the receiver in disgust, his last question obviously unanswered, leaving him angry. He stared at the phone in a quiet furor.

"Sir?" Davis cautiously asked after a few moments.

The portly man waved a hand, then pulled a file from his drawer, tossing it across the desk. "Have them ready to go as soon as you can. The squad was assembled on short notice and you need them working as a unit immediately. There are still a few being gathered."

Davis glanced through the files. "How many have actual military training?"

"None of them."

"This might take a while, then."

"You've got two weeks, if that," the man informed him. "The opposition is already making it's move."

"Sir? Just who is the opposition if we're using these people-?"

"War makes strange bedfellows, Col. Davis," he replied. "Dismissed."

Davis rose, saluted the man, then turned and headed toward the hangar he had been working in the last few days.

His commander turned in his chair to face his office window. "Damn it, Matty. I'm so sorry."

* * *

><p>West Rosen had turned back to his physics homework after the "broadcast heard 'round the world" starring his friend and her gang. His dorm was already abuzz and he didn't want any part of it, especially if it got out he actually knew one of them. He was annoyed by the knock at his door and answered it angrily. "Yeah, whaddya want? I'm trying to-"<p>

He stopped mid-rant in confusion. Two men dressed in dark suits stood there.

"Whatever it is, I'm not interested," he said and tried to close the door.

One of the men stopped it with his foot. "Mr. Rosen? We'd like a few moments of your time."

"I said I'm not interested," he repeated.

"I think you'd hear us out before this photo gets to the papers," the other man said, holding up a picture.

West's face went white. "H-how did you get this?"

"Let's say we have friends in _high_ places," he remarked. "If you catch our drift."

West looked back to the photo and gulped.

"It's not often kids get to fly to school is it?" the first man asked. He wasn't saying it with the slightest bit of humor.

* * *

><p><strong>Ohio<strong>

Gabriel and Edgar walked along the rows of Ian's crops. Several of the carnival crew roamed about, picking the vegetables for that night's dinner.

"How long do you think we'll be able to live like this, you think?"

Gabriel smirked. "Not as long as I'd like to, honestly," he replied. Edgar gave him a strange look. "I've finally found the sort of peace in my life I never knew I craved until now," he explained. He looked into the distance. "What's going on out there now? There's a storm brewing, and we're the ones who will have to prove ourselves."

"Prove ourselves how?"

Gabriel reached into his pocket and withdrew a handful of folded papers. "One of my many talents," he confided. "We've got a long fight ahead of us."

Edgar looked at the pictures Gabriel had drawn. "Who is this?"

Gabriel face grew dark. "Someone I need to make amends to."

"How long until this comes to pass?" he asked. "Surely you can help prevent him from being killed like this?"

Gabriel stopped walking. "Probably, but the question is, can I? Or do I want to?"

Edgar frowned. "What's his name? Surely we can at least warn him?" he pleaded.

"Some things are meant to be," he replied, grabbing the drawings back. "Some things we can't stop no matter how hard we try."

Edgar silently wondered what happened between Gabriel and this drawing of a fat man before that would cause Gabriel to owe him a debt, but not enough to possibly save the man's life.

* * *

><p>Plot bunnies:<p>

Niki/Tracy/Barbara - daughters of A + SA?

Col Davis - squad of drafted Specials

Children's Crusade: JC goes after twins, M, M, others

Claire - Nightingale?

Peter - Helix / Shift?

Hiro - Kensei

Ando -

Matt - Dispatch

HRG - Recon

Tracy - Ice Queen

Edgar - Slice / Swiftblade

Ian - Gardener?

Twins - Gemini

GG vs. MP = Matt vs. JC = PM

TBC_-


	7. Ch6 Reunion

HEROES - Volume 6: Brave New World

Chapter 6: What Can you Do?

Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable characters, just playing with Tim Kring's toys.

A/N - show canon; GN semi-canon/references. A couple OCs.

* * *

><p><strong>A formerly decommissioned military base.<strong>

The ragtag squad marched in exhaustion across the base. A couple glanced over in curiosity to see the medical transport drive past.

West nudged Alex. "Who do you think they grabbed this time?"

"I don't know," West shrugged. "All I do know is I'm gonna kill Claire about six times over first chance I get."

"Can I help?" Alex inquired, dead serious.

"Eyes forward!" Col. Davis ordered as he marched beside the double column. Even he spared a glance at the vehicle. It was obvious they were bringing in another recruit, but he hadn't been informed of it by his commanding officer. He shrugged it off and marched on. The fat man would tell him when he was good and ready, he knew.

What he didn't know was that the "fat man" was watching them from his office window and could sense his sense his aggravation. He turned away and headed down to meet the transport, pulling on his military issue trench coat.

The soldiers pulled the gurney out of the modified ambulance without a care, shaking their captive from his drug induced slumber. He began mumbling to himself, waking up.

"Lucky for you, that man is too groggy to form a coherent thought at the moment," a voice warned them.

The soldiers snapped to attention. "Sir!" the sergeant greeted him. He held out the mission folder to the man.

The commanding officer rolled his eyes and bent over their charge. He laid a hand on the man's shoulder, bent closer and whispered, "Sleep." The soldiers didn't notice the small squeeze he gave their prisoner.

The man on the gurney had been trying to force himself awake after being shaken from the movement until this moment but promptly dozed off again.

"I don't think he knows where he is," the man said to the sergeant. "Has he been awake during transport?"

"No sir. This is the most he's been aware since we took him into custody. We weren't sure if you wished to interrogate him right away or not."

"Good. Follow me," the portly commander ordered, leading them inside the building. He directed them to a holding cell and had them carefully transfer the sleeping man to the cot. "Stand guard while I talk to him," he ordered.

"Sir?" the sergeant questioned. "He's asleep, isn't he?"

The man seemed mildly amused by this. "Do as you're told, soldier," he ordered. The man nodded and locked his superior officer in with their prisoner.

The man checked the restraints, then pulled up the lone chair in the room to the bed. "You can wake up now," he said.

The prisoner seemed to regain consciousness almost immediately. He looked around trying to figure out where he was. "Am I in prison?" he mumbled, still half-asleep. He tried to raise his arms, but couldn't. He tested the strength of his bonds, forcing himself to pull free. He could feel he was strapped down at neck, wrist, and ankle, across his legs and chest, and felt another strap ran underneath his back, which pulled up when he tried to twist his arm. He wasn't going anywhere.

Fractured memories of his earliest encounters with the Company began racing through his drugged mind. He expected to see Bennet and the Haitian.

"No, you're not," the portly man answered him. "You're also not in a Company facility. Technically."

The prisoner looked in the direction of the voice, trying to focus. When he realized who was talking to him, he snapped fully awake. "_DAD_?" Matt Parkman yelped. "You're supposed to be dead!"

"Calm down, Matty," Maury Parkman cautioned. "I can explain everything."

"No! You're dead!" Matt repeated. "Daphne saw Petrelli snap your neck! She showed me what she saw!"

"Matt? What's the first rule about illusion?" he asked his son.

"What? What are you talking ab-" he started, before realizing what his father was telling him. "You faked it? Why? How?"

"You know how," Maury informed his son, tapping him on the forehead to Matt's annoyance. "By the way, I know what you're thinking and this is all real. The restraints and cell, everything that's happened to you so far, unfortunately. And I am sorry for what has happened, Matty. As soon as I heard you were arrested, I pulled you out," he explained. "As for why I faked my death? That's not any easier to explain. I was never truly working for Arthur, really. There are so many plots within plots going on, you could get lost in them without even trying. Do you have any idea what you disrupted when you and Nathan tracked me down in Philly?" he asked before answering himself. "No, of course not."

Matt glared at his father. "Angela. You're working for Angela, aren't you?"

Maury sighed. "Yes and no, Matty. It's bigger than you-"

"Don't call me that. Not now," he fumed. "You don't have the right."

The elder Parkman nodded. "I'm sorry. I didn't know that was going to happen." He reached over and grabbed his son's hand. "We'll find him, Matt. I swear, to you, if there's one thing I can promise you, I'll find your boy if it's the last thing I ever do."

Matt struggled to pull away. "Let me go," he demanded. "Let me out of here so _I_ can find _my_ son."

Maury shook his head. "I'm sorry, Matt. Not yet." He rose and stood by the door. He glanced back with a somber look on his face. "Trust me, you're safer here."

"Let me out of here, old man!" Matt yelled again. "You fat bastard! Let me out of here!"

Maury gave his son a sad look, then raised his hand toward him. "Sleep."

Matt fought the order, but he could feel his body shutting down once more. "No!" he argued, drifting off. "no..."

The sergeant opened the door for Maury to exit after a mental nudge. He took one last look at his sleeping son before heading back toward his office. "Make sure he's comfortable," he told the man before he left.

When he arrived at his office, he wasn't surprised to see the two people waiting for him. "Sorry I'm late," he apologized. "Last minute detail to take care of."

"That's understandable, sir, with everything going on at the moment," the blonde woman said.

"You're Agent Hanson, am I right?" he asked, taking his seat.

"Yes sir, Audrey Hanson, FBI," she nodded.

"I see you've met Mr. Bahn?" he inquired as he opened the folder he had been handed, earlier.

"Yes sir," she replied, hesitantly. "And may I ask you a question?"

"He already knows, Agent Hanson," Maury informed her, nodding to Lukas. "One of us, one of them. I'm sure they told you that when you were tapped for this assignment?"

"No, I was going to ask, um," she stammered. "The main reason I was tasked to work with you on this was a case I had a few years ago. A man I briefly worked with from the LAPD? He was also a P-?"

"Yes, that was my son," Maury finished as he studied a photo he had pulled from the folder. He glanced up to see her reaction. "Would you like to see a picture of my grandson?" He held it out to her.

"Sir?"

"Matthew, Junior," he said proudly.

She took the photo, unsure what to make of it. She smiled in spite of herself. "He's a cutie," she said, adding to herself, _just like daddy._

"Yes, he is," Maury replied with a wink.

She gave him a curious look. She knew Matt could read minds, but could his father?

"Yes," he repeated, as if answering her silent question. "That's also part of the reason you and Mr. Bahn are here. My grandson has been kidnapped and his mother was murdered."

Audrey gasped in shock. "I'm so sorry!" she blurted out, looking at the photo again. "Where's-? Matt has to be beside himself?"

Maury gave a solemn nod. "Matt was arrested by some small town sheriff for the murder of his wife, but that's been taken care of," he told her, waving it off. "Mr. Bahn here can track people, but I need you to take him to the crime scene and help him in any way to find my grandson."

"I understand," she nodded, then asked, "I'm sorry, isn't that a personal conflict of interest, though?"

Maury held her gaze. "Mr. Bahn, would you excuse us a minute?" Lukas nodded and left the room. "Ms. Hanson, I've read your file. You have not read mine. It's buried so deep even the Joint Chiefs aren't fully aware of who we are or what we do. I know what you think of my son and the rest of us, like Sylar. Don't think for a moment I don't," he informed her.

He seemed to consider his next words carefully. "This may seem a conflict of interest to you, but I have it on good authority that what happens to that boy will affect relations between us for decades, if not longer. I promised my son I would find that baby if it was the last thing I ever do." He leaned forward. "Matt will be the first to tell you I was not a good father to him, and he's right. But I will die to make sure he gets the chance to be the father to his son I never could be for him. Do we understand each other?"

Audrey nodded. "Y-yes sir."

"Good. You're dismissed," he told her before turning his attention back to the file on his desk. Sensing the thought before it fully formed, he answered before she had the chance to ask. "Yes he is, and no you can not."

She rose and nodded again. "Understood."

She turned to leave when he called her name. "Audrey?"

"Sir?"

"Please find my boy's baby," he asked in a quiet voice of genuine concern.

She fought a smile. "Yes sir," she answered in a determined voice.

No sooner had she left than the door opened again. Maury glanced up to see who it was, but he already sensed him. Or rather, didn't sense him.

"Hello, Rene. Don't you knock?"

"Mr. Sullivan is waiting to see you," the dark skinned man said.

"Well, look who can speak after all these years!" he chided the man. "Sorry, but I never did understand your vow."

"Penance," Rene replied in his soft, Haitian accent.

Maury returned a grim smirk. "Everybody has some sort of penance, don't they?" he mused, rising from his desk to follow his associate out. "You've kept Sullivan sedated?"

"Of course."

"Then this should be easier than we thought," Parkman said, not looking forward to the task at hand.

* * *

><p><strong>New Jersey<strong>

"Peter, you can not just bring anyone into this," Noah Bennet chided his young friend.

"I found him at mom's," Peter Petrelli countered. "He was looking for you." He held out the drawing. "Something real bad is going to happen to Matt."

Noah sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I already sent Hiro out looking for you two. He called me earlier and told me Matt was arrested, but his lawyers claim he was taken into federal custody before they could post bail."

"What? When? Where did they take him?"

"I'll tell you what I told Claire and Hiro: last night, by some military goons, and we are not going to rush in and cause Mr. Parkman more trouble by springing him from federal jail. Doing so would not be a very wise move, right now," he informed his friend. "We're still trying to control public perception, and they've already labelled Matt a 'terrorist' and 'murderer', we don't need anyone foolishly busting him out of federal custody, causing more trouble for us and him."

"Terrorist?" Peter sputtered. "Matt?"

"Claire's been glued to CNN, for once, and the police captain who arrested him already bragged he exposed Matt because of the Danko affair and the attempted 'suicide by cop' incident in Odessa when he turned Parkman over to the feds." Bennet looked defeated. "It's not looking good, Peter."

Peter ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Great. Now what do we do?"

"_We_ don't do anything, is that understood?" Noah told him. "I've already warned Claire and Hiro, and now we tell Edgar the same thing so he can tell Tracy and Sylar-"

"Gabriel," Peter corrected.

Noah looked annoyed at the correction. "So Edgar can tell the Carnival folk not to do anything rash or something that would draw attention to them," he explained. "Am I understood?"

"Yeah," Peter begrudgingly agreed. "Speaking of," he nodded behind the other man.

"Bennet?" Edgar inquired. "I overheard what you were saying. If this Parkman is in real trouble, then-"

"If you overheard me, then you know I don't want anyone trying to rescue Mr. Parkman. Am I clear?"

"But Gabriel-"

"-and Miss Strauss are going to follow the same orders," he repeated. "Now, if you would be so kind as to relay that message to them?"

"Right. I don't suppose you have a number I can give to Gabe if he wanted to contact you?" the speedster asked.

"Gabe?" Peter echoed, chuckling. He pulled out a cell phone. "Take this one. We picked it up for Matt, but it looks like he won't need it, will he?" he asked Bennet.

"It doesn't look like it, does it?" he replied coolly, looking at Bennet.

Claire listened in from the other room. She left Hiro to alert them if there was any update on Matt or other Specials. She knew what she had to do and quietly slipped away. Two blocks away, she felt the brief gust of wind, which she knew to be Edgar headed back to Ohio. For a moment, she feared it was Peter looking for her, but he would have doubled back and caught her by now if they had realized she slipped out again. She knew her father would be irate, but she decided she had no other choice.

* * *

><p><strong>Tokyo<strong>

"Still no word from Hiro or any of our American friends?" Mohinder inquired, bringing his associate a cup of chai tea.

"No," Ando Makahashi replied, frustrated. "The last contact I had was the one saying Rebel was missing, which you received, too."

"Well, they do say no news is good news, right?" the Indian professor chuckled nervously.

"Yes, but you know our friends," Ando reminded him.

"Well then, let's concentrate on something we do know about," Mohinder decided. "How go the plans for your wedding?" he mused.

"Kimiko's handling everything," he informed his friend. "The only thing I have to worry about is making sure her brother and I get there on time."

"Well, there's good news," Mohinder beamed.

"Huh?"

"A time traveler can never be late, especially when it's for his sister's wedding," he smiled.

Ando stared at him in disbelief before they both broke out laughing at the absurdity of their lives.

"Thanks, I needed that!" Ando said after he finally caught his breath.

"I thought as much," Suresh agreed. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to check on Molly and her new friend. Make sure they've done all their homework before bed," he excused himself.

When he arrived at their apartment Hiro and Ando had arranged, he found both young adults glued to the television. "I brought dinner," he announced, setting the red and white striped boxes on the counter. "I hope you like chicken?"

"Mohinder?" came the weepy voice from the other room.

"Molly?" he ran toward the sound of the TV and found the young Indian comforting his foster daughter. He shook his head as she turned to him. "What's wrong?"

"It's Matt!" she cried. "The news is saying he's been arrested for murder and terrorism!" He could barely understand her, but the CNN ticker told him what she couldn't. "I can't even find him, Mohinder! I think he's dead!" she cried.

He hugged her to him. "Shh, it's okay," he cooed. "You're just upset, I'm sure that's why you can't find him," he assured her, stroking her hair. "Now, you said you had trouble finding us when we were taken prisoner, right? What if he's being held in a similar manner? That would make it hard for you to find him, right?" he explained.

She sniffed and wiped her nose on her sleeve. Mohinder winced and fought the urge to correct her it wasn't very ladylike, but this was the larger matter at hand.

"I guess?" she mumbled.

"Alright then, we can't help him right now, so why don't you go wash your face and we'll eat dinner, okay?" he suggested. "After that, we'll see if we can't try again, okay?"

"Okay," she said and headed for the bathroom.

"She's been like this for hours," Sanjay informed him, nodding toward the various maps and her trusty atlas spread out on the floor.

Mohinder sighed. "We hadn't heard anything at Yamagato, but Ando assured me he would call if he heard anything," he told the young man. "Why don't you go wash up, we'll have dinner, and go from there?" he suggested. "No sense panicking on an empty stomach, at least."

Sanjay nodded and left the room. Mohinder worried about his former roommate as he watched the CNN news report make a mockery of his friend. Had these people no shame? He thought in America, people were innocent until proven guilty? From his brief time there, it had been obvious the media made sure people thought the opposite was true now. Or rather, you were guilty unless proven innocent, but then someone always seemed to have some dirt on you, he realized. Guilty until proven guilty of some lesser crime. There was no more innocence in the world, these days, it seemed.

He dug the remote out of the pile of maps and turned the TV off, then went back into the kitchenette to set out the chicken for the children's dinner. He found his hunger had all but dissipated in the few minutes he had been home.

He made the children say a quick prayer for Matt's safety and for his family, if the news reports were true. Mohinder knew his old friend needed all the support he could get now.

* * *

><p><strong>New York City<strong>

Claire pushed her way to the front of the crowd. She had traveled all night, and had only stopped to grab a quick bite and wash her face before heading into making history once again. She had expected the morning news show to do their usual 'on the street' report, and was now primed to expose herself once more. She barely took notice of the various signs people held aloft. Most of them were 'shout outs' to tourists' friends and families wherever they had come from. No one seemed to recognize her, which she thought was good, until she made her way to the fenced off area and got a chance to look around, trying to locate the cameras and news anchors.

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me!" she muttered under her breath.

Mixed among the tourist signs, were a handful of signs promoting whatever political agenda, but a few had a familiar face plastered over them: Matt Parkman.

Only a couple were pleading for his innocence, the other dozen or so were demonizing him worse than any politico or a certain self-righteous "church" in Kansas, making him an "easy target" like the diminishing "bad guys" in the Mideast. She realized the tide had turned against them. She knew she was doing the right thing, this time. She had to believe it.

The studio lights shone bright around the crowd, and she couldn't be sure if the stationary cameras were filming or not, but the other cameraman that panned the crowd and did close-up interviews seemed to be looking over this morning's group, seeing who was photogenic enough for the nation to tolerate seeing over their morning coffee. He suddenly jerked to life, one hand over his ear and began panning the crowd again under direction from someone in the studio.

He scanned past her, ignoring her waves and shouts for attention. She realized that's what everyone did just to get on TV. Just another face in the crowd. Except she was a bit more determined than they were. As he began sweeping back towards her, she flipped herself over the flimsy fence. The cameraman stumbled back out of her way when she did and focused on her as she stalked determined towards the jovial weatherman.

She took him by surprise, but he gave a nervous look into the camera and rolled with the intrusion as security ran up to escort her away. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but not just anybody can be on TV this morning," he told her before his face went blank. She knew someone inside had recognized her and was now yelling into his earpiece, if he hadn't.

Now was the time to make her move. "Don't you know who I am?" she asked him. He began stammering as he realized what was going on. She grabbed his microphone and pulled it closer to her, letting him keep his grip on it. "My name is Claire Bennet," she announced. "You may recognize me from my recent news breaking appearances? I'm here to say my friend Matt Parkman is innocent of the charges brought against him!" she declared before shouting, "FREE MATT! FREE MATT!" Luckily, one of the protestors with Matt's face on his sign was near enough she could point toward it.

The weatherman finally managed to wrestle his mike back. "Uh, be that as it may, miss, the courts will have to decide that," he stammered, trying to keep composure. She could practically hear the man's earpiece screaming at him to get her inside _or else!_ She almost had to laugh as he fought to keep a straight face. "Uh, we in the media have been trying to contact you, Miss Bennet. If you'd like, we can step inside and talk to you there?"

"I would like that very much," she agreed.

He instructed security to escort her inside and get her mic'ed up for an interview with his co-hosts as he struggled to finish what he started. "Welcome to live television in New York, folks! You never know what to expect!" he laughed as he segued back to his weather report.

She smiled in satisfaction as she was lead to a make-up table and someone quickly powdered away her sweat, brushed her hair, and hooked her up to the mobile microphone. An assistant quickly asked her what the deal was so the anchors would know what to ask her, other than the obvious questions about Matt Parkman.

Begging for Matt's innocence was only the ice breaker. Claire startled babbling about what she had been through the last few years, from finding out about her abilities to finding her birth parents, and learning about the Company and that the government had tried to "contain the problem" on at least two occasions she knew about before.

Everything went to hell after that.

The fact Matt's namesake was still missing was never mentioned. Two people in particular were glad for that.

* * *

><p><strong>Topeka, KS<strong>

Dan Walters watched the interview with a heavy heart. He knew his life was over as far as "normal" went. Hell, even normal ended too long ago. He crept down the hall to his daughter's room and looked in on her. She had yet to stir this morning. Even her short existence had been a troubled one.

He and her mother had been high school sweethearts. He told her that he never even thought of other girls like he thought of her. They continued dating after school, since she kept putting off getting married. He knew her parents were behind that, being overly strict and religious. Lord only knows what they thought when she wound up pregnant.

She never told him. The only thing she did say was that her parents were sending her away "for a few weeks" to stay with relatives, possibly looking into a bible college. He had joked that they used that "visiting" excuse in the old days when a young girl was "in a family way". He didn't realize until later that she didn't laugh. It was a year later before he heard she had returned to town, but her parents denied it when he called. He even asked her old girl friends to try and see her, but even the few he knew went to church with her couldn't get a message that he wanted to see her. They had shut him out of her life.

He finally gave up any hope of them getting back together and left town. It was only at their tenth class reunion he reluctantly attended that one of her neighbors had let slip she had been forced to give the child away.

That was how he found out. It was another ten years before she was able to track her father down. He never had a clue where to start looking.

They were slowly trying to build a relationship, but she had been placed into church foster care and given a similar upbringing to her mother. They didn't talk about the other part of his life. He had spoken true to her mother.

It was made worse a few years ago, right after she had tracked him down. He had been anxious about her upcoming visit, when the first seizure hit. When he came to, he thought he was dreaming or having an acid flashback, even though he had never touched the stuff in his life, only the occasional joint. He could swear he was lying on the floor in a giant dollhouse, laying on a baseball field sized sea of white, then two-tone brown cotton. Behind him was a mass of blue denim, and a movie playing on what seemed to be a drive-in movie screen. He ran naked across the expanse, and found himself looking out the giant window into a black sun. When the experience faded, the shift had knocked him cold again, and he had assumed it was all a heart attack and called 911. The fact it looked like he had woken up and his clothes (including his brown plaid shirt) were laying as if he had walked through them instead of taking them off normally didn't even occur to him at the time. He just didn't want to have his long lost daughter find him lying dead of a heart attack when they first met.

The cardiologist told him he apparently had had some recent heart stress, but he was otherwise healthy (especially if he lost a good fifty pounds or more). Basically, it wasn't a heart attack.

The second attack came during her visit a week later. She heard him scream in pain shortly after turning in and found him in his bed. The shock of seeing her long-lost father looking like some living doll had her cursing him as possessed and a demon. Luckily, the stress of seeing her like that shocked him into reverting. The screams of pain shook her out of her conditioning and she stayed by his side until it faded then helped him to the hospital for another "heart attack".

With her help, he had managed to keep these episodes under control, and, as far as he knew, she was the only one who was aware of it. He didn't mention it to his doctor the second (or third or fourth) time despite his daughter's insistence. The doctor had simply called them panic attacks and gave him an anti-anxiety prescription, which helped deter further attacks. She moved in with him under the pretense of "bonding with bio-dad" and was looking at local colleges to stay close to him.

Now, thanks to some spoiled blonde brat, his life was about to turn upside down again. Seeing her and her friends expose the fact there were other people like him out there struggling with "abilities" was a relief to him last week, but now? One was being called "a new kind of terrorist" and wife killer, while she was being put under suspicion.

Dan considered pulling out the shotgun again until the thought of abandoning his daughter once more shook him out of it. She was the only decent thing to happen to him in...forever, it seemed. He called himself the usual litany of names for chickening out. Again. He finally popped another anti-anxiety pill, just in case.

It was the next day, following blondie's morning news appearance, that they came for him and his daughter. He tried to tell them she was innocent, but they ignored him, piling on his 6'2" football built frame, expecting resistance.

Once in custody, they took a blood sample from them both. He snarked they didn't need a needle, just mop up what they spilled from their excessive force. He had a feeling they had orders not to get too rough, as the second in command had to tell a couple of them to walk it off as the others in the squad upended everything they could in his house, looking for something to pin on these "terrorists." It didn't help they confiscated the shotgun his grandfather had left him, his great-grandfather had built it and handed it down to Dan. The loss of that hurt almost as bad as his daughter being called a "terrorist" by these gestapo thugs.

Dan and his daughter locked eyes in understanding as their captors drew their blood. Whatever test they used to find people like him, it was genetic. He began crying. Not for his own predicament, but because his daughter would be cursed with this now, as well. He felt the seizure coming, begging her "protect me" like he was her baby as the pain began to spike.

When he woke, he had returned to full size and was dressed only in a too small orange prison jumpsuit in a cold cell. He tried to sit up and felt a tugging at his chest and heard a monitor beep. Someone had wired him up, he realized, glancing over to the machine. He was surprised to see a pair of socks laying folded on top of slippers next to the heart monitor cart next to the bed. He glanced to the door and saw there was a balding man watching him through the small window as he pulled the socks on his cold feet.

There was no residual pain from returning to full size, so he had no clue how long he had been out. He guessed they had given him a light tranquilizer after shrinking, taking the risk of potentially killing him.

He wished he had his shotgun.

* * *

><p><strong>Chicago, IL<strong>

Mary Burchett had always been a bit of a tomboy. She was always ready to stir up trouble with the guys instead of dress up and look pretty for them. Mary thought they were pretty, alright, pretty dumb.

It didn't hurt she grew up an army brat. Her father made sure she always knew how to take care of herself if a boy got too rough. She earned her belts in a number of dojos as they moved around growing up. Those lessons would serve her well, now.

She had heard chatter about a growing number of (so far) guys who grew up reading comic books and living in troubled areas with high crime. They had taken matters in their own hands, sometimes dressing up, but always making their presence known when cops and politicians were too corrupt and/or lazy to bother.

Their ranks were about to grow by one more. She had heard there was at least guy doing this here in Chicago, but didn't know who he was or how to contact him. She wasn't interested in a sidekick, anyway.

Between her training and the fact her body was becoming stronger, faster, and, it seemed, denser with every passing day made her feel pretty much invincible. Thinking that "dressing up" was too juvenile (not to mention having heard the comic book people would now sue if you weren't at a comic book convention or paid entertainer or something) she still took the precaution of wearing some light body armor she got fairly cheap online and gloves with reinforced knuckles.

She pulled her blonde hair back in a ponytail and admired her makeshift "costume" (because she knew that's what they would call it if she was arrested for this) of a black sweater pulled over the armor, steel-toed work boots, and jeans. At first glance, she looked like any 20-something girl looking for a party, but whoever tried to take advantage of her would find out quick they were mistaken. She grabbed her brown leather jacket and headed out on patrol.

* * *

><p><strong>Ohio<strong>

Edgar laid the phone Peter had given him on the table in front of Gabriel. "It was supposed to go to your friend," he informed the former serial killer.

"Matt?" Gabriel asked. "What happened to him?"

"He was arrested for killing his wife and kid, they think," he related. "The wife was drowned, no sign of the kid. Feds already moved in and took him. They're calling him a terrorist, since his cover's been blown as one of us."

"Janice is dead?" Gabriel repeated, stunned. He slumped into a nearby chair. "What about the boy? What happened to his son, Matty?"

Edgar shrugged. "Like I said, no one seems to know, and they're trying to pin her murder on him."

"This is someone you know?" Tracy asked, entering with Emma.

"You could say that," he replied as Edgar signed to the medic what he knew to catch her up.

Gabriel kind of liked Janice, and now felt bad for tricking her that one night. And Baby Matty? What was not to like about that kid? He felt bad for Parkman. Was this the event that sent him on the path to his death? Could he help prevent that? Sure, Matt was a bit of a buffoon, but he always meant well, even when trying to rid himself of Sylar that time in Odessa. He thought he was doing it for the greater good, while all Sylar wanted, Gabriel realized, was to be whole, once more. He later acknowledged, while trapped in that empty city in his mind, once he was whole, was that he, Gabriel Gray aka Sylar, was the one who had been wrong.

Matt was looking out for the greater good, while Sylar only thought of himself. Reclaiming the name of Gabriel was the first step he took to try and atone for what he had done as Sylar. Something that would never have been possible without Matt's influence. He owed Matt, he decided.

"I've got to go," Gabriel announced, rising once more. "Where did you say Noah was?"

Edgar glanced to the women before answering. "I didn't."

"Please, I have to offer my help," he pleaded. "I have to find that boy."

"Bennet told me tell you, specifically, not to get involved," he told the other man. "He doesn't want you making things worse."

"I'll be the judge of that," Gabriel countered and reached for the phone. It disappeared. He looked up at Edgar. "Give me that."

"I don't think so," he said and sped out of the tent.

Gabriel and Tracy ran out after him, but he was long gone.

"Now what are you going to do?" she asked him.

"Since I can't find Noah, I'm going to make my amends to Matt by finding his son," he said and slowly lifted off the ground. "Take care of things, here, for me." As soon as he was clear of the valley, Gabriel Gray flew off to the west with a sonic boom.

"Tracy?" Emma called out. "Could you come in here?"

"What's wrong?" she asked, reentering.

"Here," she said, pushing a small stack of scrap paper to the other woman. The gust of wind almost blown them away.

"Is he gone?" Edgar asked, returning.

"Yeah," Tracy answered, distracted by the doodles Gabriel had been making. "Did you see these?"

"See what? I just got back."

The trio looked at each other in shock. "Give me the phone," Tracy demanded. Edgar was already dialing as he handed it to her.

"Noah? It's Tracy," she told the person on the other end. "Gabriel just left, claiming he was going to find your friend Matt's son...yeah, like we could stop him," she argued. "Listen, that may not even be our biggest problem. These may just be doodles, but you saw the one Edgar gave to you? The ones Gabriel left behind are even worse."

She stared at the one bearing her likeness next to a bearded man. Their profiles were over a number of others, obviously children, and at least one looked familiar: her nephew Micah.

* * *

><p><strong>New York City<strong>

Angela went over her files again in Arthur's old study, which had become hers after his death. She was looking for some clue to help Noah in his coming fight. Something was going on that she wasn't fully aware of, and she didn't like it.

A knock came at the front door. She had dismissed the maid, sending her away on an "extended vacation" after seeing Claire on the morning news again. She wasn't expecting any other visitors, outside of the small mob that had encamped on her street after Claire and Peter revealed themselves the week previous. She guessed it was another reporter eager to make a name for themselves after Claire's latest news appearance.

She cautiously opened the door, eyeing the blonde woman standing behind the bearded man. She looked suspiciously familiar. "Yes, can I help you?" she asked, surprised anyone had gotten around the crowds and increased private security.

"Mrs. Petrelli?" he asked in a sincere voice.

"Cut the crap, who are you and what do you want?" she demanded.

"Right to the point?" he chuckled. "My name is Reverend Joshua Carpenter, and-"

She whipped out the Glock from behind her back and aimed it in their general direction. She recognized the woman, now. Or, at least, who she potentially was. That was easily cleared up.

"Who are you?" she demanded. Carpenter started to repeat himself, but she cut him off. "Which one are you?" she asked the woman.

"My name is Barbara Carpenter," she replied, forcing a smile. "Surely, ma'am, there is no need for that?"

"Barbara?" Angela repeated, before making the connection. "Zimmerman's daughter?" She held the gun directly at the woman, while keeping the reverend in sight. "Tell me why I shouldn't kill you right where you stand?"

"There is no need for violence," she suggested.

"I've dealt with your kind," Angela retorted. "I can fend off experienced telepaths the likes you can't even dream of. What are you doing here?"

Rev. Carpenter's smile faded. "We came for the boys."

"My grandsons are not here," she said coolly.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said and began to reach for her.

Angela turned the gun on him. "Don't even breathe."

"Our only interest is in seeing the children are safe," Barbara told her.

"You're a liar," Angela countered. "I know which one you are. You were Zimmerman's to keep after all was said and done. The others fostered out, but he kept you, didn't he?"

"Ex-excuse me?" she stammered.

"But you ran away days after you graduated, didn't you?" she continued. "Some boy, wasn't it?" she glanced back to the reverend. "Oh yes, your father kept us up to date on all your activities, as best he could. That was part of the deal. That is, until you ran away and never saw him again."

Barbara acted indignant. "I can visit my father any time I choose," she replied. "How do you know him, anyway?"

Angela smirked. "My dear, without us, you and your sisters would never have existed."

"Sisters?" she sputtered. "Now I know you're lying. I only have a brother."

"He's as dead as your father," Angela informed her. "As is one of your sisters, I'm told. Would you like to know where to find the other one?"

* * *

><p><strong>Outside LA County, California<strong>

Officer Daniel Bloom returned to the lake house on his squad decommissioned Harley Road King. He wasn't sure why, but he knew his captain was wrong. Matt Parkman didn't kill his wife. Houk never saw Parkman's initial reactions. They were genuine. Bloom knew he had to prove it, and, if they were lucky, find some clue as to where the child went.

He found another vehicle already at the house. He drew his sidearm and approached cautiously. Peering in the window, he saw a blonde woman in a business suit looking at one of the Parkman's photos. A slight bulge under her jacket at her hip meant she was carrying. A nondescript man in a suit entered from a back room and looked right at him.

"I said we have company," Bahn repeated to Audrey.

She turned and drew her pistol, pointing it at Bloom through the window. "Drop your weapon!" she ordered.

"You drop yours!" he countered. "I'm the police!"

She gave him an annoyed look and holstered hers. "FBI. You might as well come in," she told him. He saw a flash of metal on her hip.

Bloom cautiously rounded the house and saw both occupants holding up their credentials as he held up his own wallet badge. Hers confirmed she was Audrey Hanson with the FBI. His said he was Lukas Bahn of- "What agency is that?" he asked, not recognizing the ID other than it was government issue. He recognized the stylized s-shape from somewhere, but couldn't recall exactly where from at the moment.

Lukas snapped it shut. "That's on a need to know basis and you don't," he said gruffly.

"Don't start," Audrey warned him, before turning to the newcomer. "Who are you?"

"Officer Daniel Bloom, ma'am," he replied. "I'm a local who happened to be one of the first responders, here."

Her face brightened. "You talked to Matt?"

"You know Mr. Parkman?" he asked cautiously, her use of his first name caught him off guard.

She nodded. "Yeah, we worked a case together, a couple years back," she explained. "Because of that, I was tapped to investigate what happened here."

Bloom looked to Bahn. "Let me guess, since Capt. Houk started screaming 'terrorist', that's why the feds took him and sent you here?"

He could see her bristle at the accusation. "Yeah," she had to admit.

"But if you worked _with_ Parkman, does that mean you're here to look for evidence to clear him or-?"

"That's what I'm hoping."

Bloom glanced to Bahn, who looked like he was watching a fly buzz the room. "What's your deal?"

Bahn held a finger to his lips. "I know you've been here, before, but-?"

"What? How could you know that?" he asked.

"Did you come alone?" he asked.

"Dude, I'm on my own time and on a Harley, of course I'm alone."

"Someone else is here," Bahn informed them.

All three went for their guns, instinctively.

"Where?" Audrey whispered, not noticing the shadow that fell across the back door, but Bahn spun and aimed at it. The other two followed suit.

The door opened and a tall man stepped in. "Agent Hanson, isn't it? How nice to see you after all this time."

"Sylar!" she accused him and fired three times. Bloom dropped to one knee, partly to dodge her shots, but partly to take him from the side, if he had to. Bahn held his fire, but kept a close aim on the intruder.

Only Bloom was surprised to see the bullets had stopped inches away from the man, who looked vaguely familiar.

"That wasn't very nice, Audrey," he scolded her. The bullets fell to the floor. "I'm actually here to help find Matt's son," he smiled.

She didn't believe him.

* * *

><p>TBC...<p> 


	8. Ch7 Revelation

HEROES - Volume 6: Brave New World

Chapter 7: Revelation

Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable characters, just playing with Tim Kring's toys.

A/N - show canon; GN semi-canon/references. A couple OCs.

* * *

><p><strong>New York City<strong>

"Here's all the information I could get from him," the email informed Barbara Carpenter. She didn't know who he was then, but he had found her shortly after her persuasive telepathy had emerged. He had been a fount of comfort in understanding what was happening to her.

He had even offered an explanation about the missing day she had experienced a few years prior. It was shortly after that that she began to realize people were always ready to listen to her when she asked for something. Only her husband Joshua had seemed particularly resilient in resisting her commands. Once she realized that, the rest of the puzzling experience seemed to make more sense.

Of course, the good reverend had decided her persuasion would be beneficial to his congregation and soon it was standing room only for his sermons. Other parishes asked how his was on the increase while theirs continued to dwindle, but he only claimed it was "God's will."

She knew better to keep quiet, and with the new revelation that she not only had two sisters, but was a triplet and part of an experiment was disturbing, to say the least.

She looked up from the files the older woman had given her. "Is-is this true?"

"Yes, all of it," the pale skinned, raven haired matriarch replied coolly. "You were nothing more than an experiment."

She looked down at the file again. "Where are they? My sisters?"

Angela Petrelli gave her a bitter smile. "One is dead, I am told. Niki Sanders. Killed while trying to save her late husband's cousin from a burning building. The girl made it out, but Niki, however-"

Barbara nodded. "And the other?"

"I am no longer sure of her exact whereabouts," she replied before explaining further. "She worked as a lobbyist in Washington before her abilities developed. After that, she worked with my son, Nathan, briefly, before his death. The last I am told, she worked for the Company briefly, but has since taken a leave of absence to, ahem," she glanced down at a note, "join a circus in Ohio? No, I'm sorry, it was a carnival?"

"What could they do? These sisters of hers?"

Angela glared at the bearded man before she looked back to the blonde woman beside him. "Niki apparently suffered some sort of psychotic break following the death of her adoptive sister when they were young. Afterward, she appeared to develop a multiple personality, or whatever the correct term is these days, I can never remember." She gave a soft snort of derision. "These personalities would take the brunt of her aggressions, with the main alternate identity having a great strength. Another seemed to personify her more," she paused to glance at Joshua Carpenter for his reaction, "base urges, and would manifest at times to, well, I don't know how to say this without upsetting you-?"

Carpenter said it for her. "She was a whore."

Both women looked at him in disgust.

"She was my sister!" Barbara reminded him.

"No matter, your husband is correct," Angela informed her.

"How did you keep track of her?" he inquired.

"The same way we kept track of your wife," she admitted. "Reports from your respective fathers and other informants."

"My papa spied on me?" Barbara gasped, a slight hint of Jonas Zimmerman's accent slipping in. An accent she had fought hard to leave behind her growing up under the strict German scientist.

"My dear, don't pretend you didn't leave him because you felt loved. We both know the real reasons."

Barbara started to protest, but hung her head in shame.

"Did they have families?" Carpenter intruded. "Husbands, children?"

Angela scowled at him. "I believe you already know the answer to that. I've already been informed the Sanders boy is missing, taken by a man with brown hair and beard and a blonde woman." She made a point of checking the note she had recently added to young Micah's file as she said this.

Barbara ignored them, staring at the paper before her. "What about my parents? My real parents?" she blurted before Joshua could respond to Angela's accusation.

"Adam Monroe lived over 400 years, only to die at the hands of my husband so that he could free himself from life trapped in an invalid body," she mused, recalling her attempted assassination of her husband, and his scheming that never stopped.

"What happened to him," Joshua asked, "your husband?"

"He was nearly shot by my own son," she admitted. "Unfortunately, he was interrupted at the last moment by another," she paused to look at Carpenter again, "one who had no qualms about killing, unlike my son."

"And my mother?" Barbara pressed.

Angela was quiet a long moment. "Susan Amman. My dear friend. When Adam Monroe escaped from where we had imprisoned him for nearly thirty years, he began exacting his revenge." She gave Barbara a sad look. "She wasn't his first victim, nor she was his last."

A single tear fell down Barbara's cheek. The knowledge that she had another family had just been torn from her in a matter of moments.

Joshua Carpenter regarded her with suspicion. "Surely there were more?"

"More, Reverend Carpenter?" Angela asked as Barbara looked at her husband in a mix of surprise and disgust.

"More tests, more babies," he insisted. "Conceived for the purpose of whatever your so-called company was planning?"

"No," she lied. "There were no more children born of that experiment. Only a handful more that were injected with a formula that gave those with the proper genomes an ability."

"Children such as?" he pressed.

"My own firstborn son was the first one injected. Against my wishes, I might add," she admitted. "Any others are far too old for whatever you have planned."

Joshua gave her a sinister smile. "And what plan would that be?"

"Do you think your wife had eluded us?" Angela hinted. "Do you think we were ever unaware of you or your plans?"

Carpenter glared and opened his mouth to reply, but fell silent as Angela drew her pistol once more.

"Get the hell out of my house," she warned in a quiet voice. "I have given you more than you came for, and if I find you sniffing after my family again, you will regret it."

Joshua Carpenter rose in a huff and motioned his wife to follow. She did as he bid, pausing only a moment to look back at Angela, giving a slight nod of thanks.

Angela's icy stare was her only reply.

Hearing the front door close, Angela finally rose from behind her desk and went to the window to make sure they left her property. Seeing them merge into the throng outside her fence, she went to the phone.

* * *

><p>Matt Parkman woke and found himself still restrained to his cot. "Hey!" he shouted, remembering his father had stationed a guard outside his door when he visited him, earlier. "Hey! I gotta use the bathroom!" he shouted, hoping he could at least get out of his restraints for a few minutes at least. He couldn't even turn his head.<p>

He could see a panel slide open in the door and a man looked in on him. He turned to the side and said something to someone else before Matt heard the door clank and the man opened it. "What's your problem?"

"I gotta go," Matt repeated.

The guard turned to his associate outside and repeated Matt's request before cautiously nearing the bunk and beginning to release Matt's straps.

"Can I get a hand, sitting up?" Matt asked, rubbing the feeling back into his limbs.

The soldier gruffly grabbed Matt under one shoulder and hauled him upright. Matt swayed for a moment, the sudden disorientation causing him to pause for a moment. He glanced over to the toilet and saw it was open to the room.

"I don't suppose I could have a minute of privacy?" he asked, slightly embarrassed. "It's not like I have anywhere to run to, is it?"

"Two minutes," the soldier shrugged and stepped outside.

"Gee, thanks," Matt muttered as he undid his pants to do his business. Having been in the LAPD locker room, he knew some guys weren't ashamed of showing off, while others were more modest, but everybody still gave you some privacy in the restroom stalls. He assumed the military was the same way, since they both had more freedom than the men Matt sent to jail, which was where he decided he was now. A military jail, at that, it seemed? His father had mentioned plots within plots, but he had no idea the Company had any presence or alliance with the military, especially after the fiasco with Nathan and Danko. Then again, it would explain how that Building 26 organization had been set up so fast, and how they knew how to deal with various Specials as diverse as himself, Peter, Claire, even Hiro. He supposed Bennet's Company had been helpful to Nathan on that part.

Another name came to mind, but he refused to acknowledge it. The memory of what happened with her was still too painful.

Matt finished his business and sat down on his bunk. He really had no other choice in the matter. There was a small fold-down table and chair attached to the wall, but Matt had no desire to sit there. He glanced down at the straps that had held him. He began to wonder if the soldier was under orders to keep him confined that way when the man came back into the cell.

"I don't suppose you know when they serve meals around here, do you?" Matt inquired.

"Please lay down on the cot, sir," the man insisted.

Matt grimaced and did as he was told. "I suppose it would be too much to ask to talk to my father? Maury Parkman?"

"I don't know who that is," the soldier replied.

Matt scowled. Now that he had his wits about him, he made a cursory scan of the soldier, but found that he couldn't read much, not even the area where they were. A deeper effort at a mental probe would probably be noticed. Some sort of mental blocks? His father's doing, he surmised. Still, he felt he had a little leeway to work with.

He allowed the man to strap his wrists and ankles down, loose enough he could slip free if need be, but only made him think the rest of the straps were tightened. Bad enough he was stuck in here, but no way was he going to be held helpless like he already had.

* * *

><p><strong>New York City<strong>

Claire Bennet found herself a virtual prisoner of the media. The constant demands of her time kept her constantly busy and she had to begin to demand breaks so she could eat, and forget about sleep. She took quick naps while being shuttled between interviews. Somewhere along the way, she had been assigned a "handler" to coordinate her interviews. She suspected they were government, but she had no clue which branch.

She was finally given a free hour to herself after a couple days. She couldn't reach either parent via cell phone, and when she checked her email, found it bombarded. When she checked her Facebook, she found hundreds of friend requests and personal messages in her inbox. After changing her password, anyone she didn't recognize was immediately deleted. Sifting through what was left, she recognized messages from people she went to Union Wells with as well as Costa Verde.

The few names she was looking for in her messages took a while. A quick reply to her mother, then more sifting through until she found a message from Gretchen.

"I don't know when you're going to see this, but I miss you and hope you're dealing with all this nonsense better than some of the people here," she said. "The truth is, I can't handle it. You were already used to handling things like that invisible psycho bitch. I tried, but I don't think I can deal with that.

"I'm sorry. I hope everything works out for you. All my best, Gretchen"

Claire stared at the message, denying it. Only when her handler came knocking did she realize her face was wet and burning. She had no idea how long she had been sitting there before that.

Her handler banged on the door. "CLAIRE?!"

"Two minutes!" she called back and ran to the bathroom to wash her face. She couldn't even look at herself as she cleaned up. She knew she could still count on her parents and Peter. She could always rely on Peter. Right?

As she left the bathroom, she caught her reflection in the mirror and knew she was lying to herself.

She opened her hotel room door to find a grey haired man in a suit waiting for her. He looked vaguely familiar.

"Hello, Claire," he smiled. You may not know me, but I appointed your father to the Senate seat he was in when he died."

"The governor of New York, right?" Claire inquired. "Yeah, Tracy told me about that."

His smile faltered a moment at the mention of his former aide's name, but he pressed on. "Yes, I am Governor Robert Malden, and I believe we can help each other."

* * *

><p><strong>New Jersey<strong>

"Yes, I understand," Noah said as he hung up. He glanced to Peter. "Where's Edgar and Hiro, we have work to do."

"They're keeping an eye out for any news," Peter replied, motioning the bespectacled man to follow him into another room.

They found their Japanese associate staring at the screen in horror, the rough looking carnival speedster beside him with a consoling hand on his shoulder.

"What happened?" Peter inquired. "Hiro?"

The time traveler turned toward his friend with a wet face. "Daphne...Nemesis...her father-" was all he could choke out.

Bennet turned to Edgar. "There was some interview with a guy from Kansas? He said he knew your friend Parkman from when he followed the guy's daughter home, and thinks she may have been involved in her death? That she had been shot and abandoned in a New York hospital after being admitted under the same name as him?"

Peter looked at him aghast. "Daphne? I thought Danko killed her?"

"He did," Bennet replied coldly. "At least technically. He withheld medical attention for her wounds, and with her accelerated physiology-" He glanced to Edgar. "She was already septic by the time Matt and Mohinder escaped Building 26. Matt must have used his wife's name for her as a cover?"

"He left her there to die?" Edgar inquired.

"I'm sure the doctors did what they could, but it was probably too late to help her," Peter offered, recalling similar experiences from the hospital where patients put off medical care until it was unavoidable. Some made it. Others weren't so lucky.

"Mohinder never said anything to me about it," Noah said. "I never asked Matt what happened after." He gave a nervous glance to Peter. He knew Angela had coerced Matt into covering up Nathan's death shortly after and Matt had cut his ties to them because of it. The subject of Daphne's fate had never come up.

After an awkward silence, Noah finally spoke again. "Alright listen, Edgar, I need you to run a message to Tracy and Sylar at the carnival: they need to circle the wagons and prepare for a possible attack. Hiro, I need you to collect anyone Rebel was in contact with and take them to these coordinates," he ordered, handing Hiro a slip of paper. "Peter, I need you as well."

Edgar sped off as Hiro wiped his eyes before teleporting away. Peter turned to Bennet. "What's my mission?"

"First, we need to check in with your mother, make sure she's secure, then I need you to drop me somewhere while you contact someone else."Peter raised an eyebrow out of curiosity. "Do I know this person?"

"The last time I saw him, I shot him," he admitted before adding, "then you flew him away."

"Oh?" he inquired, then realized who Bennet was talking about. "Oh."

* * *

><p><strong>California<strong>

"That wasn't very nice, Audrey," Gabriel scolded the blonde woman. The bullets fell to the floor. "I'm actually here to help find Matt's son," he smiled.

"Why do I find that hard to believe?" she retorted, still keeping her weapon drawn on him. She cast a quick glance to her partner, Lukas Bahn, hoping he had some plan or trick to stop this killer. She knew the other newcomer, Daniel Bloom would be out of his depth. "The last time I heard you two got together, you tried to kill him," she accused.

"You can put your guns away, I'm not here to fight," he suggested. When the trio ignored the request, he shrugged. "Oh well," he said as the three guns suddenly flew out of their hands and fell to the floor.

Bloom shouted in pain and grabbed his leg as his back-up piece was also pulled from it's ankle holster to join the other weapons. He landed on his ass, having been pulled off-balance.

"I did ask you nicely," Gabriel smirked.

"What are you doing here?" Audrey demanded.

"I told you, I'm here to find Matty," he replied. "I liked him."

"What the hell are you talking about?" she asked.

Gabriel smiled. "You could say Matt and I became quite close for a while, there. In fact, it was his fault, you could say," he informed her. "Not that it was his idea to begin with. That was all Angela, making us roommates in his head." He seemed to consider this a moment and gave a soft chuckle. "Sounds like a bad sitcom, doesn't it?"

"Angela?" she repeated.

"Mrs. Petrelli?" Lukas asked.

Gabriel seemed to finally take notice of the Company agent. "You know Angela?"

Lukas saw no point in lying. "Yes. She was a former head of the Company."

"Former?" he chuckled. "I seriously doubt that."

"What the hell is going on here?!" Bloom demanded.

"Who are you supposed to be? Another of Angela's toy soldiers?" Gabriel asked.

"Officer Daniel Bloom," he answered. "I was one of the first responders to Mrs. Parkman's murder."

"A local? So it was murder?"

"The boy is still missing," he replied. "I know Matt Parkman didn't do it."

"And you know this because?"

"The way he reacted. He was too distraught, even beating up his friend, Petrelli."

Gabriel seemed to perk up at this. "Peter was here, too?"

"This is where Matt and Peter disappeared to," Audrey realized. She saw Sylar look at her curiously. "When they were on TV, announcing themselves to the world?" she offered.

"Sorry, I don't watch too much TV these days," he explained.

"Uh yeah," Bloom continued, "when I called Parkman on his wife's phone, he told me to turn on the TV-"

"You were who he was waving to?" Audrey interrupted, having watched the video clip several times over.

"Yes, and a minute later, I was standing face to face with him. Petrelli apparently is some sort of teleporter and face change...er." He had been waving his hand around his face to suggest the ability, but stopped and stared at Gray for a moment. "That's where I know you from! Petrelli looked like you!"

"Really?" Gabriel was intrigued now. He reached over and touched Bloom's arm. His mind sifted through the images he saw until he was back in this house. "Matt was enraged," he began reciting. "No one had noticed Matty was missing. Peter tried to calm him down, but then tried to make Matt face his anger, turning into me, then Matt, himself?"

Bloom and Hanson looked at each other incredulously. "What?" they said in unison.

"Mr. Gray has various abilities," Bahn explained. "One of which is the ability to read the history of objects. I presume you just read Officer Bloom's tactile memory of his previous visit here?"

"Angela's files are very thorough, aren't they?" Gabriel smiled. "But, yes, you are correct." He turned back to Bloom. "You mentioned Janice's phone. Do you still have it?"

"It's locked up in evidence, back at the station," Bloom told him.

Gray looked around the room. "No matter, it was just a thought." He glanced toward the front door and opened it, feeling along the wood.

"What are you doing?" Audrey inquired. "Whoever killed Janice and stole Matty had to knock, right?" he replied. "I'm trying to see if they left an imprint, here."

He concentrated, forcing the information to come. He shook his head. "Whoever it was, they were good. I can barely get a trace sense of...a man. No, a couple? They wanted Matty. That was the only reason they came here. Janice was merely an obstacle to that." He looked across the room to the back door and stalked across the small lake house to the back porch. The others followed.

"There was a crib? No, playpen?" he inquired, staring to the left of the door. "Where is it now?"

"Probably taken into evidence as well," Bloom offered. "We would have dusted for prints here, then taken it along."

Gabriel glanced around, off the porch and toward the obvious tracks where the car had been pulled from the lake. He started to cross the porch, but stopped at the corner support. He touched it lightly.

"She was confused. She didn't know why, but only that she must get in her car and drive," he informed them. He turned and faced them. "One of the intruders was a telepath."

"Parkman's a telepath," Bahn reminded them.

"Shut up, Lukas," Audrey snapped. The scowls of disbelief from the other two men showed they agreed with her.

"Peter Petrelli is a power mimic, just like Sylar," he countered. "Bloom admits he was here with Parkman after he disappeared from the television studio in New York City. He's copied telepaths before, and Bloom says he saw him change appearance."

"Shut up, Lukas," Audrey repeated, turning towards him. She gasped as he suddenly stiffened, and squeaked as if he was being choked. She saw his neck go tight, then realized he was slowly lifting off the floorboards of the porch. She wheeled back around to see Gray holding his hand up in a clench.

"I would listen to the lady if I were you, Lukas," he said with an air of menace. "Peter's not a killer, and neither is Matt. Trust me on this," he warned.

"That's enough!" she shouted. "Put him down, Sylar! Now!"

He gave a slight shrug and lowered the man, releasing his hold. Bahn immediately began coughing, gasping for air. "I suggest you don't accuse people of murder who aren't capable of it," he cautioned.

"People like you?" he accused as Audrey helped Bahn back to his feet. Gabriel snorted in derision.

"He's got a point, Sylar," she admitted.

He approached her, getting a bit too close for her comfort. "Sylar is dead. My name is Gabriel Gray," he informed her. "Now, are you going to help me find Matt's son or not?"

Without waiting for her answer, he turned and began stalking across the backyard between the house and the lakeshore.

Bloom looked at her in confusion, then followed Gray. "Just how well did you know the Parkmans?"

Gray crouched down on the lawn where the grass had been matted down by Matt and Peter's fight. "Funny, you ask that, but you really want to know why they called me a killer. Isn't that right?"

Daniel didn't answer.

"This is where they fought, isn't it?" He ran his fingers through the flattened grass.

"Yeah."

"Was he injured?"

Bloom shook his head. "Not that I know of, why?"

"I keep seeing Matt tied to a bed?" he replied. "He's in some sort of prison?"

"The Feds that picked him up?" he offered.

"Audrey!" he called to her, standing back up. "Where's Matt?"

The guilty look that passed between the Federal Agent and Company man didn't go unnoticed by the police officer and the former serial killer.

Gray stalked back across the yard to the pair. "Where is Matt?"

"I-I don't know," she stammered.

_Tingle._ Gray frowned. "That's a lie."

* * *

><p>Ian Alexander and Steven Elliot watched the latest ambulance roll in with their newest "recruit". They gave each other nervous looks."How many does that make now?" Steve asked.<p>

Ian thought for a second. "Gotta be at least thirty?"

They watched the soldiers drag the drugged man from the back of the ambulance and escort him inside "The Reception Area" as the squad had begun calling the brick building where all new arrivals were taken.

"What do you think this one does?" Steve finally asked.

Ian watched them for a second. "He's young, which is part of the reason he's shorter. Maybe West and Alex's age?" he replied, as if remembering something someone had told him long ago. He began flexing his fingers, shaking his hands. "Pyro? No. Some sort of heat from his hands, though?" he informed his compatriot.

"Think they're going for offensive powers?" Steve suggested.

"Says Mr. Lucky to Mr. Know-it-all," Ian teased, still concentrating on the new arrival. A sudden flash made him jerk back with a gasp.

"What's wrong?"

"He's done this before, but he eluded them?" he informed his friend. "He was with someone else? Someone with great power. Dangerous power." He looked his friend in the eye. "Someone who's coming here. Soon."

"Roll on Tweety Bird?" Steve asked.

"It might be too late for that," Ian replied, already moving toward their barracks. They all but ran in and Ian immediately started calling the others to him in the common room. "Wayne, West, Michelle, time to fly! Dave, Jimmy, Pam, with us! Operation Tweety Bird is a go!"

"What about me?" William Pine asked, once more.

"I told you, kid, you're too young. You don't need the hassle if we get caught," he told the teen.

"Old enough to get drafted by the government, but not old enough to fight?" he countered.

"This isn't the Civil War, kid," he said. "You'll get your turn to shine, soon enough."

"You bet I will," he huffed, holding up his fist and turning it metal before stomping back off to his assigned room.

"Come on, Will, I'll play you a round of Halo," Alex Woolsey suggested, pulling him away. He nodded to West as he passed them in the hall.

"Everybody know what they're supposed to do?" he asked as Michelle came down the stairs from the women's floor to join them. Everyone agreed and the group headed for the barracks door.

They exited to find Rachel Mills escorting a large, heavyset forty-something man and a young woman in her early twenties toward the barracks. "yuh-oh. busted," Jimmy whispered as the trio neared.

"What's going on, guys?" Rachel inquired. "Where are you all off to in such a rush?"

"Welcome Wagon for our new squad mates?" Steven offered.

"Nope. Try again," Rachel replied.

Ian noticed the man looking over the group, trying to figure what they were up to as well. The young woman grabbed his hand. He mouthed "prison break?" Ian winked and mouthed "Shh." back. This guy was good. Too late to include him in their plans, though.

"What about a pick up game of stickball?" Jimmy suggested to Rachel.

"Strike Two," she warned the group, distracted by Jimmy to notice the silent conversation between Ian Alexander and Dan Walters.

Dan squeezed his daughter's hand. "Honey," he whispered, "run."

"What?" she hissed.

"_Run!"_ he yelled and took off, dragging her along.

"What are you-?" Rachel started to yell, but then saw the three fliers were airborne. "What are you idiots doing?" she yelled as the rest dispersed in various directions. She grabbed her radio. "We've got a problem at the barracks! Possible multiple AWOL situation! We need a lockdown, ground and air, ASAP!" she ordered.

Ian and Steve feinted opposite directions, then regrouped at the "Reception Area" building. Ian wasn't too surprised to see Dan and his daughter already there. He was huffing for air. "Sorry," he panted, "this is the only place we knew."

"No need to apologize," Ian assured him. "We just need to wait for the all clear from Pam."

"Pam?"

Ian pointed back to the corner. Dan could see a slight waver in the air, like a heat mirage. A hand materialized out of thin air and motioned for them to get down. The quartet huddled behind a dumpster as a group of soldiers raced by, headed toward the barracks. As soon as they had passed, Pam shimmered into view. "Coast is clear, come on!"

"Are we breaking out or in?" Dan asked as he followed the others, bringing up the rear.

"Breaking in to break someone out," Steve informed him.

"I didn't want any of this," Dan told him. "Why us?"

"None of us did," Ian replied. "And no one seems to know why we're special or why we can do what we can do."

"What?" Violet gasped. "What are you talking about?" Her voice quavered and Ian knew that she already knew her answer from the way she looked at her father. Dan returned an embarrassed look of guilt that only a parent could give when their child had learned something shameful about them.

"What can you two do, anyway?" Ian asked.

"Nothing!" Violet insisted, but her father's expression belayed her denial.

Ian watched Pam as she checked the coast was clear for them to sneak in. "I know stuff. Steve is lucky. Pam is a chameleon, for lack of a better term. The others you saw? Jimmy can make poles, the others were flyers."

"You don't mean they're pilots, do you?" Dan asked as an explosion could be heard in the distance.

"Hopefully, that was the other Dan, he's a pyrokinetic," Ian informed the newcomers. Upon seeing Violet's confused face, he clarified, "He makes fires with his mind." He looked to Dan. "And you?"

Dan gave his daughter another embarrassed look. "I-I shrink."

"Excuse me?"

"Apparently, when I get excited or nervous about certain things, I shrink," he explained. His next words came spilling out. "But it knocks me out. I can't control it." He gripped his daughter's hand tight. "She can't do anything. I don't know why they took her, too."

Pam motioned for the group to come inside before seemingly melting away once more. Ian let Steve lead them in. "Did they test your blood?" he asked Dan as they entered.

"Yeah, when they arrested us," he admitted. "She can't do anything, though."

"Maybe she just hasn't had a chance to?" he offered as the group slunk down the hallways.

"Where are we going?" Dan inquired, struggling to stay low without losing his balance as they passed a bank of office windows.

"Downstairs. They're keeping someone locked up down there," Ian informed him.

"Do I want to know?"

"Dead Man Walking."

Dan almost stumbled, had his daughter not been holding his hand and kept his balance, despite their size differential. "What did you say?"

Ian said nothing more, but motioned them to be silent and follow. The group made it down two levels before they found any resistance. That was limited to an alpha-numeric keypad entry.

Steven tried two combinations, neither of which worked. Ian grabbed his shoulder and he tried after concentrating a moment. The door buzzed open. Ian smirked.

They pushed open the door to see three guards turn and point their weapons at the group. Dan immediately shoved Violet behind him.

Ian nudged Steve. "We, uh, we were told to come down here and wait for the trouble outside to pass?" he offered.

Two of the men turned to the third. "Four of you?" he gloated. "I'm sure we can accommodate you." He snapped at the other two, who proceeded to open three of the four cell doors. "Inside," he ordered the intruders.

"After you," Steven insisted.

The three guards gave him confused looks. As soon as they did, their guns flew up to the ceiling. Ian and Steven took advantage of their surprise and charged two of the men, with Dan quickly following suit, his high school football days paid off as he charged the third, screaming at the top of his lungs.

Having stunned his opponent into submission, Dan turned to help the other two. He watched in awe as the other two shoved their soldiers back, only to have them both fly sideways into the waiting cells.

Ian asked "You've got the keys?"

Someone answered "yep." and the other two slammed the doors on their respective opponents.

"What just happened?" Dan asked.

In reply, Pam reappeared. She made a show of pulling her hand free from something in slight disgust, immediately wiping it on her pant leg. Another man appeared out of thin air beside her. He was slightly pudgy and covered in a sheen of sweat. "David Berman," he introduced himself. "Telekinetic."

"She was hiding you this whole time?" Dan asked.

"I met her at the doors outside," he explained as he helped Dan carry the third guard into the last empty cell. "She only hid me after we entered. I'm still getting the hang of using my TK for flying, which is probably why you didn't see me before."

"I guess not," Dan admitted. He noticed the others waiting on Steven to find the right key for the fourth cell. "So who is our mystery man?"

The cell clanged open. Steven and Ian peered inside. "Hello?" Steve asked. "Are you awake?" He stepped in and stopped as he saw who was lying on the bed. "Oh shit."

"What's wrong?" Ian inquired. Steven stepped aside and let his cohort see who they just tried to free. "Sullivan?" he said in astonishment at seeing the sleeping, scraggly man hooked to what appeared to be some sort of medical air machine. This disruptive man from their first day as a squad had been taken away. Ian didn't really care what happened at first, but now the question had been answered.

A voice answered him from the hall door they had bypassed. "I believe the line is, 'Sorry, your princess is in another castle'?" The group turned to look at the fat, balding man in the doorway. "You didn't think I was going to sit by and let you steal my prize out from under my nose, did you?" Maury Parkman asked the group. "A simple misdirect of your talents," he told Ian. "One wrong turn and you almost free the wrong prisoner. You almost made a costly mistake, had you actually freed that one."

Before they could react, they began falling asleep. First Berman, then Pam. Fighting off the sudden urge to drop, Dan once again tried to hide his daughter behind himself to protect her from the mystery man as he saw Ian and Steve succumb. "Who are you?" he demanded. "What is going on here?" He fell to his knees, still struggling to stay awake. Violet was already down.

The last thing he saw was three more guards stepping into the hall and begin dragging the others out.

"I can't have you disrupting my plans, and I sure as hell don't need that psycho waking up from all of you being so close to him," Parkman muttered. "Hurry up and get them down the hall and away from this cell," he ordered his crew.

After chewing out the trio that had been overtaken, he mused that even with two new arrivals to disrupt their plan, this team operated fairly smoothly. They would all be reprimanded, of course. Then their training would be doubled. They needed to be ready for the upcoming battle.

After seeing that they were secured, Maury strolled to another containment area. One in another section of the base. "Leave us," he ordered the guard as he opened the cell. He stepped in to see his son sit up on his elbows. "You're not supposed to be able to do that," he noted.

Matt shrugged and slipped his wrists out of their loose restraints. "You here to read me the riot act?" he asked as his father freed his ankles.

Maury sat in the chair opposite the cot. "I told you, I'm doing this for your own good."

"So why are you here? Just to check up on me?" he asked, swinging his feet around to let them hang to the floor. "I need to find my son, dad."

"I have someone doing that, Matt. Don't worry about it."

"My wife was killed and my son kidnapped, and you tell me not to worry?" he snapped.

Maury held up a hand. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry," he apologized. "You have to trust me right now, Matt. I'm trying to help you."

"By locking me up? Why? Can you answer me that?" he demanded.

Maury gave a heavy sigh and looked to the door. "You know, there are others here. Others like us," he informed his son. "A group of them just tried to fake an escape attempt in order to free you."

"What? Who?" Matt demanded, expecting the answer to be Peter, Hiro, or even Mohinder.

"That's the kicker. No one you've met, Matt," he said. "Two of them were even recent arrivals and got swept up into the scheme. How about that?"

"What are you talking about?"

"One of them had an intuition you were down here and tried to free you," he explained. "Total strangers risking their lives to free you from protective custody. Why is that?"

"Protective custody? Is that what you call this?" Matt accused.

"I have my reasons, son."

"Do you? You let me think you died, then it turns out you're still working for Angela Petrelli all this time in secret? You're running some black ops project for her, is that it? Another Building 26 fiasco?"

Maury nodded. "Close enough. I have my reasons for doing...what I'm doing, Matt."

"Like what?" he challenged.

Maury considered what and how to tell his son. "Read my mind."

"I can't. I tried, remember?"

"I only let you think that, Matty," he admitted. "I blocked you then because of what was going on. I couldn't let anyone find out what I was doing." He looked at his son again and held out his hand. "Do it."

Matt regarded his father suspiciously. He knew it could be another trap, but cautiously took his father's hand and entered his mind.

A burst of static made him pull back a moment, but it soon cleared up, as if tuning in an old radio station from his youth. Images began to slowly form through the haze. He saw flashes of a battle, various powers being used against each other. He saw himself in the midst of it and he was laying on the ground, dead. He shook himself free and stared at his father. A tear rolled down his cheek.

"I'm sorry, son."

After a long moment, Matt realized, "Doesn't that mean you can't keep me down here forever?"

* * *

><p>TBC...<p> 


	9. Ch8 Public Relations

HEROES - Volume 6: Brave New World

Chapter 8: Public Relations

Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable characters, just playing with Tim Kring's toys.

A/N - show canon; GN semi-canon/references. A couple OCs.

* * *

><p>"Admit it, dad," Matt warned. "That vision, or whatever it was, it means you can't keep me down here!"<p>

Maury Parkman held up his hands. "Matt, please, sit down and listen to me."

"NO!" he shouted. "First off, you don't have the right, much less the authority, to hold me prisoner!"

"Matt-"

"Second off, where the hell am I? Is this where you and Nathan were going to put us all away? Is it?"

A guilty look crossed Maury's face. "Matt, just listen to me for one second," he pleaded.

"Third, I need to find _my son_, dammit!"

Maury rose and stood belly to belly with his son, leaning forward so they were almost nose to nose. "I told you, I have agents handling Matthew's disappearance. Now sit down, shut up, and listen to me, for once, boy!"

Fuming, Matt held his ground. "Let me out."

"No." Maury shifted his weight forward, hoping to throw his son off balance, but it didn't work. Matt stood firm. "Are you willing to work with me, and do what I say?"

"I need to find my son, dad."

"Are you with me or against me, Matt?"

"After everything you've done?" he accused.

"Then I'm sorry, son, I can't let you go." He turned and walked through the cell door.

Matt gaped after him in surprise before he realized what had happened. He forced himself awake and sat up on the cot. He looked over to find his father still sitting across from him. "Let. Me. Out."

"Work with me, or stay down here, Matt," he declared. "Your choice."

"Never," Matt fumed.

"Fine, I'll see you next week," he said rising. "Maybe I'll let you know if they found my grandson. Maybe not."

The guard outside opened the door to let him out. Matt knew he might not have another chance and tried to throw himself up and toward the door, but only flung himself over the side of the cot. One leg was still tied down as he screamed out in pain.

Maury stopped and looked back to see what his son had done to himself. The guard looked to him for orders on whether to help the man back up or not.

"Go get me an ice pack," Maury ordered and went to help his son up. "You're heavier than I remember," he grunted, helping his son up and rolling Matt back onto the cot.

Matt groaned in pain and tried to reach for his twisted ankle. "I just had Peter fix me knee, now you break my foot?" he accused.

"You didn't think to look before trying that stunt, did you?" Maury retorted.

"I thought I saw you release both feet," Matt admitted through clenched teeth. "I don't suppose you have any healers handy?"

"No," he replied and went to sit across from Matt's cot again. "Matt, I really need your help, here."

Matt stopped rubbing his ankle, but didn't turn to his father. "For what?"

"The media is about to turn on Claire. Things are about to go south for us, really quickly. I need your help in trying to maintain order."

Matt finally looked over. "How do you know?"

"We had a plant in Governor Malden's office," he began to explain, but saw Matt's confusion. "He's the one who appointed your friend Nathan to the Senate. The thing is, she left his employ right after, and we've only just managed to get another agent close enough to sway him."

"What's this got to do with me? You want me to go in there and change his mind about a couple votes? Can't you do that?" he accused.

Maury shook his head. "No. Once we lost Tracy Strauss, I don't know if you knew her, but she was sleeping with Nathan before turning and backing his father, Arthur."

Matt shook his head. He had been unaware of Tracy's name when she freed him, Daphne, and Mohinder from Building 26, thinking she was her sister Niki.

Maury continued. "Anyway, it took us this long to get another agent close to Malden, and they've managed to convince him that having Claire Bennet on his side would be a good thing."

"Then what do you need me for?"

"I need someone Claire trusts to help sway Malden we're doing the right thing here."

"Right thing? _Right thing?_ You tie me up, put me in a prison cell who knows where and you want me to convince some governor that you're doing the _right thing?_" he accused. "Go to hell, old man!"

"Matt, we're at a tipping point. We need his support," he begged.

"Then make him think you're worth the effort," Matt retorted. "I don't muck about in people's heads, anymore. I never wanted to in the first place!" The bitter thought of having Sylar in his head for months, possessing him...the _other things _he did using his body. It still made his skin crawl. He turned over to face the wall, away from his father.

A small knock at the door and the guard entered, handing Maury the iced gel pack. Maury held it, considering his next move as the guard left them.

"It's a training base," he admitted. He saw Matt turn his head slightly. "One of a handful of the dozens of closed military bases that we managed to reopen when Nathan began his round up. Nathan wanted to imprison all of us, but Angela managed to pull a few strings, keep this one off the books. We've slowly managed to keep it that way. Until now."

Matt turned back over. "This governor of yours? He knows about the base, doesn't he? What about the President?"

"Malden? Not yet," he admitted. "The President is aware, but I'm not sure how much. You'd have to ask Angela about that."

"So what's your big plan, then?" Matt asked. "Lock up the bad guys here? Keep your own specially trained wardens with abilities?"

Maury shrugged. "Pretty much. This was designed as more of a training facility, but we do have the capacity to lock up the more criminally minded -as you say, bad guys- if we have to."

"Yeah, I heard that worked so well for the Company, before," Matt reminded him. He had pieced together the Level 5 breakout from what Peter, Bennet, and Daphne had told him afterward. "That's when you got out, right? They had you locked up in Level 5, too, right?"

Maury gave a soft chuckle. "Officially. Unofficially, Angela filled me in on the next step in her plan, and I went to work for Arthur."

"And he wound up dead, didn't he?" Matt reminded him. "Now you want me to work with you after telling me I'm going to die. Don't you?"

"Matt, listen to me, please," he begged.

"Let me out. I need to find my son."

"Help me or...I'm sorry, Matt, I can't let you out, otherwise."

"And what if helping you is what gets me killed?" he countered.

Maury stood and approached Matt's cot. "You're not getting far on that," he said before dropping the ice pack on Matt's sore ankle. He yelped in pain as his father exited. "Think about what I said, boy."

Matt shot his father an angry look, but the door slammed shut behind him.

* * *

><p>"Are you serious?" Claire asked, trying not to laugh.<p>

"I wouldn't have asked you here if I wasn't," Gov. Robert Malden insisted, running a hand through his graying hair. "My PR team has tested all the parameters and either you and your friends go public as this," he pushed the designs and lists back toward her, "or you can take your chances with a very fickle and nervous public on your own," he informed her.

Claire looked at the paper explaining the options the public relations had drawn up again. "I can't decide right now, or for anyone else," she replied. "I don't think very many are going to be happy acting as government agents, either, and I'm talking worldwide. You're talking about a whole new kind of arms race, here," she argued.

"Who says we're the only ones discussing these options, right now, Ms. Bennet?" he countered.

Her jaw dropped. "W-what are you saying?"

He leaned forward. "I'm saying that certain governments have known about individuals such as yourselves for a _very_ long time."

"I-I, uh, I'd have to talk this over with my dad and Uncle Peter," she insisted.

"I know you're busy with interviews and such, but we would appreciate it if you didn't discuss this with the media, just yet," he insisted.

"Why not?"

"As you said, it's a new kind of arms race, and we've managed to keep a lid on this for quite some time until you exposed yourself, Ms. Bennet," Malden informed her. "Other governments panicked and are, uh, _drafting_ their own armies of Specials as we speak."

"Including the US?"

"I'm afraid I can't answer that."

"They never shut down Nathan's Building 26 operation, did they?" she accused.

He held out his hands in a shrug, but she could tell he knew about the operation from before, if not currently. "As they say, that information is above my pay grade, I'm afraid."

"And what if I let slip in my next interview about all of this?"

"I was never here," he told her, steepling his fingers. "In fact, I'm with my family in Kennebunkport, as we speak. There are a couple media there to record proof of my presence there," he gloated.

"You've got a shape shifter on staff," she realized.

He shrugged with his hands again. "That's your opinion against photographic proof. I'd say that's the beginning of your downfall in the public eye, Ms. Bennet."

"Sylar?" she accused.

"Now why does that name sound familiar?" he mused, then sifted through a small stack of files. "Ah, here we are, the alias of one Gabriel Gray, former watchmaker and serial killer, briefly allied with rogue government operative Emile Danko, as well as alleged terrorist Samuel Sullivan. Known associates include Peter Petrelli, Mohinder Suresh, and one former LAPD Detective Matthew Parkman." He closed the folder and glanced up to her. "I believe I saw Parkman on TV being accused of being a terrorist before and after killing his wife and likely his own son, did I not?"

"You wouldn't!"

"There are several factions wanting their own faces as America's super-defenders, Ms. Bennet, unfortunately, you ruined quite a number of plans for that," he informed her. "Luckily for you and your friends, files like these can disappear...or suddenly find their way into the press. Your call."

"This is blackmail!" she accused.

"This is hardball and getting you to perform your patriotic duty," he countered.

She was quiet a long moment before she finally spoke. "Who did you and your cronies have in mind for your _patriotic duty_," the word was as sour on her tongue as it was difficult for her to say it.

He opened another folder and pulled a list of names out, pushing it across to her. "I'm sure you're familiar with most of these people, am I correct?"

She glanced at it, expecting to see some familiar names. Peter, her, Matt, and Hiro were at the top of the list, a few she never heard of, while a couple others took her by surprise. "West? Alex? Why are they on here?"

"As I understand it, they are currently in training for this team," he acknowledged.

She glared at him defiantly. "I'm not wearing spandex," she finally declared. "I seriously doubt some of the others will, either." The image of Matt in skintight spandex made her want to laugh and retch at the same time.

"You worry about getting your friends together and agreeing to this, we'll worry about uniforms," he told her, snatching the list back.

"What about Hiro? He's still a Japanese citizen," she reminded him.

"We've already talked to our Japanese associates," he said. "A, um, _timeshare_ was discussed." He said this with a hint of amusement.

"You do know he's having problems with the time travel, right?" she asked. "He barely survived a brain tumor, recently. I don't think he'd be willing to risk another."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, Ms. Bennet. Good day." He began gathering his files and slid them into his briefcase. He left her sitting their, pondering what they had just discussed. A minute later, her assigned personal assistant came in and began going over her latest itinerary as if nothing had happened. Claire stared at her in disgust.

As he left in the elevator, Robert Malden allowed himself a smile of satisfaction even as his skin took on a sun-bronzed tone, his hair receded into a white buzz cut, as his face became leaner and the slightly pudgy Senator's body gave way to a taller, leaner man. Tim Petrelli arched his eyebrow as he mused his nephew's little girl had become quite the young woman.

* * *

><p><strong>London<strong>

Peter Petrelli ducked into the secluded alley, before allowing himself to access Molly Walker's psychic location ability. He had no reason to let any Londoners see a twenty-something dark-haired man turn into a pre-teen with dark-blonde pigtails, or from a young Japanese man upon his arrival. Of course, a young girl was equally invisible to most on the English streets as his adult self until he neared his destination.

He realized his quarry was in a rougher part of town and decided that it was best to proceed in his quarry's likeness. He ducked into another alley and took a quick glance before shape shifting into the man he was looking for. The best part about him was that he would be the only one to see Peter, as they would both be invisible.

When he saw the coast was clear, he allowed himself to concentrate on the crude British ruffian that had briefly mentored him in New York City. He felt his limbs lengthen, but it seemed slower, more painful. His whole body seemed wracked with pain as he regained his former stature. Peter fell to his knees and screamed out in agony.

He didn't even remember passing out. He just knew one moment he was on all fours in pain and the next he was sitting against the alley wall with a police officer standing over him. He was still unfocussed from the experience as he looked down to see his right leg significantly shorter than the other, as if he were two completely different people fused together. He reached out to touch it and saw his left arm was smaller than normal, too. In fact, it was a darker shade. Not quite brown but more...Asian? He reached up to scratch his head and felt varying lengths of hair. He guessed it was probably a patchwork of colors, too, if his body was anything to go by.

He felt his chest and one side was thicker and softer than he expected. Not significantly noticeable, but the flesh had puffed out enough to suggest a small breast. He could still feel hairs tugging at his undershirt on either side as he moved, though. He checked his pulse, strong but erratic.

The only conclusion was that his shape shifting had gone haywire and the fact his other abilities were already out of sync and relying on the shifting to work meant he was probably in trouble. He tried to make a mental list of his acquired abilities since his father stole his original set and he had to inject the Formula to regain a weaker version. His head pounded as he tried to center himself and not panic.

His body had other ideas, as he could feel it shifting again. His short leg (Molly's?) began growing, his arms grew hairier, but he could also feel his mass increasing. He forced himself to remain calm and allow it to happen. Hopefully, his body was simply resetting itself, but he realized that wasn't the case as his mass continued to increase.

He glanced up to see the officer back away in stunned surprise. Without trying, he saw through the man's eyes and confirmed he now looked like Matt, once more. He took advantage of the moment and made the cop forget that he had seen anything wrong and return to his patrol.

Peter stumbled to his feet and tried to recall where he had last focused in on Claude Rains. It was hard keeping himself from reading the thoughts of passersby. Most of them thought he/Matt was simply drunk, especially as he was headed to The Green Man pub. When he finally arrived, he scanned the mind of the barkeep and saw that there was a flat rented out above to a young couple, but he occasionally heard shouting coming from an older man that he had never seen. The kids insisted it was simply the telly or something they watched on their laptops.

Peter/Matt stumbled towards the stairs to the apartment, making the pub patrons ignore the fact he was ever there. Upstairs, he zeroed in on the familiar voice from what seemed like ages ago. He banged on the door.

"Claude! Let me in! It's Peter!" he called out.

A young dark-haired woman opened the door. "Can I help you?" she asked in an annoyed tone.

"I need to find Claude," he gasped, leaning on the door frame. "My name is Peter Petrelli."

She stepped aside for a brief second, then Peter felt a hand on his shoulder which shoved him against the wall opposite the door. "I don't know who you think you are, but you're not Peter Petrelli!" came a voice from nowhere.

Almost on instinct, Peter caught the fist inches from his gut. It was hard enough to stand, let alone breathe, at the moment, he didn't need his former mentor knocking the breath from him in a one-sided pub brawl. He realized Matt's stronger body had a slight weight and strength advantage over his invisible attacker. Matt's body also seemed to have some muscle memory, as Peter found himself twisting Claude's invisible arm and forcing him against the wall in a classic police maneuver.

"I'm not here to fight you, Claude," he insisted. "Noah sent me to talk to you, but my abilities seem to be going a little haywire at the moment."

"Bennet?" the invisible voice echoed. "I'm having no part of his nonsense again!"

"Please, Claude, I could really use your help at the moment!" he pleaded. "I think I'm losing control again."

The scruffy face that suddenly appeared before him was full of panic. "You don't mean another New York City, do you?"

Peter shook his head. "I don't have that power, anymore, but it feels like my heart's racing a million miles an hour. I didn't even choose to copy Matt, I just became him after passing out in an alley, near here."

"Matt?"

"A friend. Matt Parkman, he's a-"

"A telepath?" Claude finished. Peter/Matt nodded. "I'm familiar with his father, the fat bastard."

"Can you help me?"

"Inside, both of you," he motioned to Abigail, as well. Peter followed him in and collapsed on the couch. "Get him some ice water and a hot towel," he ordered her.

Peter felt hot, but Claude wrapped a shawl around him.

"Now, what's going on? I saw the news from America. Some bloody blonde bimbo exposed you lot, then?"

Peter nodded at the occasionally apt description. "Claire, my niece. I'm not sure what the latest is, but Noah and I were hoping you could help."

"I want nothing to do with that," he repeated as Abigail brought the ice water and hot towel he requested. "What about you? What's going on here?"

"I don't know," Peter said, taking a sip of water. "My father stole my powers, leaving me empty, but he was also working on a Formula to give others abilities."

"Oh bloody hell, not that again!"

"What?"

"Never mind, just go on with your story," he urged.

"I injected myself with the Formula to save myself and Nathan. The side effect was, I didn't get my original power of copying those around me. I now had to touch another person with abilities and it was usually a conscious decision to copy whatever they could do," he explained. "There were a few other times when I copied someone without being aware of it."

"Sounds like a psychological thing to me," Abigail said. "D'you have any trust issues?"

"Besides being betrayed by nearly my entire family? Not really," he chuckled. "Yeah, that's what Matt was thinking when he helped me get past my block, recently," he admitted.

"So these times when you unintentionally copied someone?" Claude inquired.

"First time, we were on a plane and I was in a fight. I fell against someone I thought was someone else, and wound up freezing a hole into the side of the plane."

"That was intelligent," Claude sniped.

Peter ignored it and continued. "Another time, I lost my speed saving a new friend from walking into traffic and it was a while before I realized I had saved someone with, uh, what do you call it, synesthesia? You see sounds, hear colors, and the like. Your senses are mixed up, misfiring."

"Oh, that's a useful one," Claude snarked.

"It is when you can use it to turn a musical instrument into luring a group into doing whatever you want, kind of like the Pied Piper, I guess?" Peter explained.

"Or the sirens in _The Odyssey_?" Claude suggested. "Luring sailors to their deaths upon the rocks."

"That makes no sense," Abigail noted. "Her ability, not the siren, bit."

Peter shrugged. "Apparently, there was some sort of emotional psychic element to it?" he offered. "We really haven't had the chance to test it."

"Anything else?" Claude pressed.

"I, uh, I wound up trapped inside someone else's head for what seemed like several years, but turned out to be only a few hours," he reluctantly admitted. "We finally managed to break out after admitting some truths we were both denying to ourselves."

"So, you've got a boyfriend, is that it?" Claude motioned to Matt's body as Abigail stifled a laugh. "Tell me it's not this fat-"

"_NO,_ it was nothing like that!" Peter insisted. "Part of it was my trust issues, and part of it was I was trapped inside the head of the man who killed my brother, Nathan. We came to a truce of sorts and worked together to break out."

"But you still hold a grudge, right?" Abigail asked. "I mean, he did kill your brother, right?"

Peter was silent for a moment. "We came to an understanding about that. We're cool, alright?" He took another sip of ice water.

Claude and Abigail shared a disbelieving look. "Then what happened?" he urged.

"We teamed up to help take down this guy who was going to expose us all by destroying Central Park. That's when Claire decided he had the right idea of living in the open, just the wrong way of going about it."

"So, you're secretly mad at her for blowing our cover?" she asked.

"No! I, uh, I was taken off guard. We all were. It was her decision and we realized we couldn't hide what we could do forever, especially after the last few years," he admitted.

"And that's when your powers started going on the fritz, is that it?" Claude asked.

"No. Matt, here, is the one who trapped us in our minds. It was supposed to be punishment for Syl-Gabe," he corrected himself. "For _Gabriel_, for what he had done in the past as well as what he had done to Matt, personally. Right before we broke out of his psychic prison, Matt was attacked and injured. After we stopped Samuel and Claire exposed us all, I went back to check on him and we got to talking. He was the one who made me realize I was having trust issues and it was holding my full powers back," he explained. "The only problem was, my body wasn't used to holding multiple powers at once, anymore, and we guessed some mental wires were still crossed. Every time I used a power, my shape shifting forced me to assume the body of whoever's ability I was using at the time."

"And now you've lost control over even that?" Claude inquired.

"I became Hiro to teleport over here," he admitted. "I may have pushed myself too hard in crossing from New York to London, that may be all it is."

"I sense a but coming?" Abigail noted.

Peter nodded. "After I arrived, I switched into Molly, to track you across the city," he said. "A few blocks away, I tried to become you and slip in unnoticed, but something went wrong, and I just, I don't know, seized up? I blacked out for a few minutes, at least. When I woke up, I was some sort of patchwork of various people."

"Like Frankenstein?" Claude suggested.

"Only more mismatched," Peter admitted, reliving the moment in his thoughts. "I forced myself to focus, to regain control and I felt myself shift again. Then I realized I was hearing the thoughts of this cop that found me, and I realized I had become Matt. I made the cop forget me and found my way here. I don't know if I became Matt because I saw the cop or because he helped me regain control before?"

"I think I know what's wrong," Claude offered, nudging Abigail. She got up from her seat and left the room.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Your body still hasn't adapted to gaining, losing, and regaining abilities," he suggested. "You're like a used balloon. You keep blowing up and stretching out. You're killing yourself, Peter. You're wearing your body out, switching up abilities all the time."

"W-what?"

Abigail returned and handed Peter a mirror. He was amazed to see his own reflection looking back at him. "I-I'm _me_ again," he stammered.

"It was weird, watching you melt down to this from that fat old dude you looked like at the door," she told him.

"_Oi!"_ Claude chided her.

"Don't make fun of my friends," Peter scolded her before turning back to Claude. "You've heard of this happening before?"

Claude nodded. "Your own father almost lost control a couple times, from what I hear," he said. "That's why I was trying to teach you to control yourself, so you wouldn't blow the planet apart. Human bodies aren't meant to contain these powers. Add in the fact a handful of you can copy others willy-nilly and you have a recipe for disaster."

"So you're telling me I have to give up all my abilities again?"

"That would be the best thing to do," he acknowledged. "Unfortunately, you're not the type to do that. If I were you, I would limit myself to a certain power set. As few as possible. Don't copy any more and if you feel yourself losing control again, purge them all. Your father actually did you a favor when he took your powers away from you. Too bad he didn't take them before you nearly nuked New York City."

"He was dead, or so we thought. How did you know what almost happened?"

Claude smiled. "I was there. Ready to shoot you in the head if that girlfriend of yours didn't. Lucky you, your brother showed up and flew you away. By the way, you do know an airborne nuclear explosion is much more deadly than one on the ground?"

"What?"

"On the ground, the explosion can only go up. In the air, you've got three-hundred sixty degrees of death." His hands mimed a tree and then a ball expanding outward.

"What? Yes, I knew that. No, I meant: you were there at Kirby Plaza?"

Claude shrugged. "I almost skipped town, but I was also keeping an eye on someone else. His paintings told me what you were going to do."

"You were watching Isaac?"

Claude smirked. "Only as a favor to a friend." He said nothing more, but left the implication for Peter to figure out. Why else would he choose that particular rooftop to raise pigeons on? The lad was thicker than lead, it seemed.

"So how do you suggest I go about this, then?"

"Go back to your friend, Parkman," he suggested. "He's the one who helped you figure out this latest twist, right?" Peter nodded. "Fine, then have him help you dig around that thick skull of yours and purge any ability somebody else doesn't have or isn't completely useless. The fewer the better, and don't say I didn't warn you. I'm not coming to your funeral and I'm not coming back with you to help Bennet. End of."

"Why not? We could really use you," Peter pleaded.

"Are you thick or what, boy?" Claude yelled. "You lot almost got imprisoned by your own brother once! It wasn't the first time, and I seriously doubt it will be the last time, either! I wouldn't be surprised if they sanctioned you lot into some sort of super army! That's what Adam wanted and that's the easiest way to dominate the world, these days!"

"A new arms race?"

"Fantastic! He finally gets it!" he exclaimed. "The boy who nearly nuked New York is finally opening his eyes!"

"I never meant to," Peter protested.

"Neither did Einstein or Oppenheimer want to use nuclear weapons, Petrelli! The cat's out of the bag and your bloody niece is responsible for whatever comes next!"

"Claire did what she had to!" he protested.

"Your bloody Claire did what she wanted like the spoiled princess he is!" Claude retorted. "Now that you're feeling better, I want you out of here, immediately!"

Peter started to protest, but Claude went to the door and opened it, going invisible as a precaution. Peter knew the man enough not to argue further and reluctantly left. As soon as he was outside, he slipped into the nearby alley and concentrated on another power. One that would take him away from there.

Had anyone bothered to look in the alley at that moment, they would have seen a dead American Senator lift off into the air and fly up and towards the west. Peter waited until he was over international waters to really pour on the speed.

* * *

><p><strong>Ohio<strong>

The various groups rushed back and forth, following the orders given to them by Tracey and Edgar. After the arrival of Monica Dawson and the Redhouse cousins via Hiro, Sparrow and Edgar buzzed along the perimeter, helping dig the trenches that would soon become moats with Tracey's ice ability, while others pulled in as much of Ian's food as they could store. Norm Littlefeather made himself useful by getting to know the local wildlife, asking them for any unexpected disruption as a security precaution. The pyrokinetics were stationed across the compound, ready to alert the others with signal flares. Ian helped by exacerbating undergrowth on the outside of the moats to hide them, and bramble and thorn patches inside for any who did manage to cross to deal with.

The plan was to force access to a few select areas, which would be patrolled by those with offensive abilities, thereby narrowing the invaders' attack.

They needn't have bothered. No one patrolling thought much of the last stragglers rounding up the last of the harvest. It wasn't until they turned on their friends that they realized what was going on. The makeshift compound was in chaos, no one sure who to trust as random members of the former Sullivan Brothers carnival and the handful of newcomers began turning on the others.

An hour later, it was over, the attackers' minds were in a fugue state, unaware of their actions. It was Ann who realized her twins were missing. After a quick search, they soon realized all the younger members of the camp were nowhere to be found. Neither was Tracy Strauss.

* * *

><p><strong>Tokyo<strong>

Hiro had spent himself moving Bennet's list of people to the Ohio compound. The last ones on his list were his friends Ando and Mohinder, who he knew would be safe in Tokyo for the immediate future. When he teleported into Ando's office at Yamagato, he greeted his friend with a cheery smile before his eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed.

When he awoke, he was laid on a couch with his sister, Kimiko, and Ando hovering over him. "Stay where you are, little brother," she cautioned. "I have already called your doctor to examine you." He saw her pull away with something red and white in her hand. He saw it was a bloody tissue as she dropped it into the bin beside the desk.

"I cannot rest," he argued, trying to sit up and immediately regretting it. "I must get everyone to safety." he felt something warm and wet tickle his nose. Without being told, he reached for another tissue and felt the red warmth as he pressed it under his nose.

"You're pushing yourself too hard, Hiro," Ando insisted. "How many times have you teleported today?"

Hiro thought a moment, but it made him dizzy. "I lost count," he finally admitted, as he reached for his pocket to pull out Bennet's list with his free hand. He handed it to the couple. "You and Mohinder were the last I was to take to America. Bennet-san wanted you all together in same place," he explained.

"Where is this?" Ando asked, unable to recognize the map coordinates other than the eastern US. He handed the list to Kimiko, who immediately pulled out her smart phone.

"This says somewhere in _O-hee-o_? No, O_hi_o?" she corrected herself. "But there are no towns nearby?"

Hiro gave a slight shrug. "That is where carnival people are? Bennet-san wanted them all together," he explained.

"All of us?" Ando inquired, nervously glancing to Kimiko.

"_Hai._ He did not explain why," he replied before noticing their exchange. "Is there a problem?"

"Hiro, we-" Ando began, but glanced to Kimiko to let her finish.

"We were hoping to get married next week," she informed him.

"But there is great battle coming," he explained, confused. "We will be needed to fight. Ando-chan, surely you will help?"

The other man shook his head. "That is America. We have no more interest in their business. They only bring trouble."

"But they are our friends!" he insisted. "We must help them!"

"Hiro, you are killing yourself," Kimiko scolded him, showing him her bloody handkerchief. "You have already had one brain tumor because of your powers. Why do you insist on pushing yourself? These people did not help you before, why do you insist on helping them?"

"No! Peter Petrelli tried to help me!" he insisted. "Besides, they are my friends! They fight bad men! It is honorable to help them!"

"Hiro, it is time to grow up," his sister urged him. "Ando and I want to marry and we want you in our lives, but not if you keep doing this. It is too dangerous," she pleaded. "You are my brother, but I can not support these foolish endeavors. I need you here to help run our company, brother. I want my children to know their Uncle Hiro."

Hiro finally forced himself to sit up. "Then would you have them know me as some emotionless office manager like father, or would you have them be proud of me for fighting beside my friends for something I believe in, sister?"

"Hiro, if you continue this constant foreign battle, then I can not support you," she said, fighting back tears. "I would rather have a live brother than a memory of a fool."

"I would rather die a man of honor who fought for what he believed in than be the poor fool who allows others to fight his battles, sister."

"Then I have no brother, Hiro Nakamura," she said, tears beginning to fall.

"What say you, Ando?" he asked. "Will you help our friends?"

Ando looked between the siblings. "Hiro-chan, I know you believe you do the right thing, but...your sister is right. This fight has already cost you a father. I would not see your sister be left alone."

Hiro gasped. "Ando, _no_!"

Ando held out his hand, allowing the crimson energy to dance along his hand. "I did not want these powers. I only took them on in order to save you," he said. "I have only watched out for you because you were my friend. It seems our destinies lie along different paths now, Hiro. If you wish to fight, I can't help you. I choose to stay here, with your sister, my bride to be."

"I-I," he stammered, trying to process what his best friend was telling him. He hung his head a moment, then looked back up to them. "Kimiko, Ando, I must help our friends. I am sorry. I cannot say I fully understand your decision, but only ask that you protect my sister if you do not wish to continue the fight."

Ando wrote a quick note and handed it to his friend. "Here is where Mohinder is staying. I can only wish you luck, Hiro-chan."

Hiro stood and hugged him. "Be good to her, Ando-chan." Ando nodded. "Kimiko?" he inquired, but she stood with her back to him, refusing to look at her brother for possibly the last time. "I will miss you, sister," he simply said and teleported out.

"He is gone," Ando informed her. She spun and fell into his arms, crying. He soothed her as best he could, but his thoughts were with Hiro and the fight he was to face in his weakened condition.

Hiro arrived at the apartment address Ando had given him. He barely had time to register Mohinder sitting on the couch with an arm around a child to either side, a white girl who had to be Molly, and an Indian boy whom he did not recognize. He felt his body beginning to collapse once more when he felt the prick in his back, not that it helped or hurt him any.

The four men in black suits stepped out from their positions and assumed it was the tranquilizer dart that knocked him out until they rolled him over and saw the blood seeping from his nose and his eyes were bloodshot. "Get the medic in here, _stat!_" the leader called out.

Within the hour, the group was on a plane headed to America.

* * *

><p>TBC...<p>

A/N:

Casting Tim Petrelli - think Nigel Bennett (Forever Knight's Lucien Lacroix; LEXX's Prince) for Tim Petrelli, who gave Nathan his first toy plane in a s4 flashback, which was first seen in the online GN where Linderman tracks down "Dallas" Petrelli at home.


	10. Ch9 Intermissions

HEROES - Volume 6: Brave New World

Chapter 8: Intermissions

Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable characters, just playing with Tim Kring's toys.

A/N - show canon; GN semi-canon/references. A couple OCs.

* * *

><p><strong>Chicago<strong>

Mary Burchett surveyed the streets below from her perch on the roof. Word had gotten out about her and neither the pimps, drug pushers, or cops were happy. She didn't care. She knew it was actually helping the community.

A slight crunch of gravel behind her caught her attention. It was closer than she would have liked. Another sound, familiar from her days on base. A gun being cocked. She liked that even less. She spun around into a defensive position. It wasn't a cop, but a man in black, double holster over his shoulders, both guns pointed at her. His face was hidden behind a black ski mask, but she could tell he was white. She saw ammo clips on his belt and some sort of thigh straps, as if for rappelling gear. No sign of rope, though. Definitely military training.

"Don't move," he growled in a low voice.

"You'd waste your bullets," she retorted.

"I doubt that," he replied and fired off a round from each gun.

Her body easily deflected them, but they still stung from the heat. She hated that. She charged and tried to sweep his leg, but he was nimble enough to avoid her. He fired again, and she defensively covered her face with her arms. The close range force of the bullets, threw her off balance, momentarily. She easily recovered and kicked him in the gut.

Her foot struck armor. Definitely prepared, definitely military grade. They tussled some more, he kept firing at her, while she kept pressing the attack. She finally got in close enough and an uppercut knocked him off balance and she pressed her advantage. A few more strikes and he was dazed enough for her to tie him up with zip ties. She only used them because they were cheaper and more disposable with handcuffs. Cops had been using them for extra cuffs for years, she knew.

After her opponent had been subdued, she went to clear his guns. They were empty. She studied him for a long moment as she realized he was like her and the girl on TV. He had created the bullets from...where? Nothing? His own body?

She didn't have time to linger on the question as someone began clapping behind her. She cursed herself for being caught off guard again and spun, aiming the gunman's pistols at the pair standing there. She almost burst out laughing upon seeing them.

On the next rooftop, two men stood. Both were in full body suits (armor?) and had capes. The man clapping was in a dark color, brown she guessed in the dim light, with darker gloves, boots, cape, and mask that only left his lower jaw exposed. The mask had goggles, which she could only guess were night vision. The other man's head was uncovered, but he wore similar goggles, as well as a crown-like headband in his short blond hair. His suit was a dark color she couldn't make out in the dim moonlight, but she could see his gloves, boots, and whatever that was over his shoulders holding his cape on were a pale color, like his hair, yellow or gold? His cape was a different color, but again, she couldn't make it out at night.

"Nice job!" the man in brown called out to her. "Looks like we were a little too late to help out?"

"Who are you? What do you want?" she demanded, unsure if they were friends of the gunman or more like her. The costumes weren't exactly helping.

The blond spoke up this time. "Relax, we're not here to harm you!" he assured her.

She wasn't buying it. "Who are you?"

"You're the woman causing all the fuss with the police and criminals alike, aren't you?" he asked. "We're big fans, as you can see."

"This isn't fun and games!" she scolded him.

The man in brown stepped forward. "We're not here to harm you," he insisted as he walked toward the edge.

"Just stay on your side, and we'll be fine!" she warned him.

He ignored her and walked across the empty space between the two buildings. "We just want to help," he said, stepping onto her roof.

She gasped in astonishment at his trick while moving back to maintain her distance should he attack.

The man in brown held out his hand. "I'm calling myself Night Raptor," he informed her. "I can fly and have great vision." He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "That's my partner, uh, Upstart, isn't it?" he asked his friend.

The other man took a running start and jumped the alley, skidding to a stop as Night Raptor caught him. Something in the way they held each other threw her off.

"When you say 'partner'?"

Night Raptor began laughing and turned to Upstart. "I told you she was quick," he exclaimed.

Upstart held out his hand for her to shake. "Quite right, miss-?" His voice was soft spoken now that he wasn't shouting across rooftops, a touch of southern, possibly Louisiana, she guessed.

"I don't need silly names," she told the couple.

"That was his idea," Upstart nodded to Raptor. "He reads too many comics." He turned to look at his partner. "Where do you think he got the idea to dress up like this, anyway?"

Raptor seemed annoyed by this, as if they had discussed it at great length. "Hey, they said on the news that any _identifiable_ characters we dressed up as would be litigated! So what if this mask is just repainted? I altered it enough that it won't be recognized!"

Mary scoffed. "Dude, I'm not into comics, and even I can tell that was a bat mask!" She couldn't identify which version it had originally been, but it was obvious Warners would sue him into the next millennium, given the chance.

"Told you!" Upstart chided in a sing-song voice.

"So what do you do?" Mary asked him.

"I can process information quicker than a computer, I'm good at translations and puzzles, and counter any offensive move towards me," he informed her. "Basically, a polymath problem solver." He pointed to her. "You, on the other hand, are near invulnerable, from the way you were wincing when those bullets hit you. I would guess more from heat than impact?" She nodded. "Your moves suggest a long term training, likely military. Enhanced speed and strength to go along with that."

"Impressive," she acknowledged. "Any other tricks you two can do?"

Raptor opened his mouth with a smirk, but Upstart motioned to him not to speak. "Those guns are empty, the bullets came from the man firing them, so were not real, or real as you are used to, with your military background. He likely also has a military background, and he was not alone."

Upstart pointed to the left, where another man seemed to rise out of the darkness. He was dressed similar to the first gunman. Mary held out the guns, but now that her new friend had revealed they were empty, she knew it was an empty threat. Instead, she crumpled them with her bare hands.

"Impressive, little girl. Let's see how you do against a whole army?" he said and it seemed as if his shadow split apart from him, and a third man stood. A moment later, the pair doubled into a quartet.

"Multipier!" Raptor hissed under his breath. "We're already outnumbered. Better retreat."

Upstart turned to Mary. "Coming with us?"

She glanced from him to the newcomers, now an octet. "Do I have a choice?"

Raptor grabbed his partner and their new friend and took to the air. The trio disappeared into the dark night, leaving the one man army and his gun toting friend behind.

Recalling his doubles, the newcomer pulled out his walkie-talkie. "This is Polsky. Three hits, one male flier, one strong woman, unknown third man. Men are caped, woman not. Airborne and headed east. Over." He listened to the reply on his earpiece. "Understood. Retrieving your slacker, standing by for evac."

Eli was silently impressed with the trio. He had heard most of their conversation, but no need to tell the fat man that.

* * *

><p><strong>An undisclosed sub-basement of the United Nations<strong>

"Are we agreed gentlemen and ladies?" the lean man inquired of the internationals assembled along the long table. There came a various discussions of agreement.

"What of the Chinese and Russians?" a voice asked.

"They have not opted to join our alliance, among a few others, I'm sad to say," the man replied.

"And this will be led by you Americans?" another voice accused.

The man gave a soft chuckle. "Only if their services are required on American soil."

"You have your own military force." It was not a question.

"Many of you have your own _special forces_ as well," he countered. "Don't try and deny it. We've already been over the whole new arms race and mutually assured destruction arguments."

He let them plead their denials as he looked over the short list of prospective individuals for the squad. "Are we done?" he finally asked.

Amongst the continuing arguments, someone shouted "And what of the girl?"

Tim Petrelli smiled. "Don't worry, I'll see to it that my great-niece will be dealt with just as Adam Monroe was finally dealt with. You have my word on that."

* * *

><p><strong>Adelaide, Australia<strong>

To anyone who saw him, he seemed to have walked out of the corner of the wall. Austin didn't look any different than any other rich businessman may have looked, expensive suit, expensive haircut even for his receding hairline, expensive shades. The man looked rich and exuded power. He had more power than most could have dreamed of.

He didn't like the term "head hunter", but that's what his objective was for the present. He had been given a list of names to assemble, and he decided to start off in the city he liked least. Nothing against the city, but one really bad ex soured him on the name, itself. Besides, having this one along for the rest would make swaying them easier.

The man was easy to find, coercing him to follow took some persuasion. Luckily, his power was easily turned back on him. Chester Jackson was an emotional manipulator, and he preferred to sell his "bliss" as a drug. Of course, if any of his clients knew what they were really ingesting, he would be lynched on the spot.

That wasn't what he was there for, it was the man's ability to psychically manipulate crowds, not get them high off his own...he didn't even want to think about it.

He sidestepped the tangle of human bodies, noting most were in a state of undress. "Chester Jackson?"

"Who wants to know?" he replied, giving the well dressed man a push of bliss.

"Get your clothes on, boy," Austin barely acknowledged. He smirked at one of the ladies as Chester found himself shudder in ecstasy from the effects of his own power.

Bagging the first one was barely difficult, the rest would be easy. If they did prove to be difficult? That would be the last time, as far as Austin was concerned.

* * *

><p><strong>Sao Paulo, Brazil<strong>

How to move a mountain? Get a man who can sway his opinion. The man known as Anaconda to locals was a literal Big Man on Campus at the local university. His size control was well known among the local populace, and especially with the ladies.

Austin was not impressed, especially now that he had Chester bent to his will. Despite the language barrier, Austin would have liked to stay and enjoy the "sights" of the upcoming Carnivale, but duty called and he now had two to transport.

* * *

><p><strong>Kyoto, Japan<strong>

After dropping off the Brazilian giant, finding their next quarry proved more elusive. Now that the secret of special abilities was exposed, electrokinetic Akihito Kaemon had become a local celebrity in the guise of "Raiden". Austin briefly wondered why Nakamura hadn't recruited him, but then again, the teleporter had been busy Stateside, hadn't he?

Persuading Kaemon's new handlers proved to be the challenge here for Jackson, it seemed. Akahito only needed to be told a told of honoring his country by his service to persuade him once he had been located.

* * *

><p><strong>Central Africa<strong>

Khari Rashid slipped through Austin's grasp for several days in central Africa before he pressed Kaemon into service, stunning the speedster momentarily so Austin could explain why they were looking for him. Rashid was wary but had already contacted the next man on their list, the Egyptian Bakari.

The pair had formed a loose alliance, going after poachers and the occasional pirate. Both insisted they could do more good where they were instead of fighting "the white man's problems." Austin tried to explain that their services would only be occasional and there was a fight brewing for which they needed to work with his team before they could return to their personal missions.

Both men reluctantly agreed.

* * *

><p><strong>Athens, Greece<strong>

Their next quarry was easier to track down. Austin had to plead the same case that Iason Galifianakis would only be needed for a limited time and would only act as the team healer. The lion-maned Iason claimed he was doing more good helping the less fortunate, healing those who were unable to afford hospitalization instead of fighting.

Austin assured him it would be a more pacifistic mission in his case. Chester even tried to press him into service using his ability, but Iason's own ability negated it almost immediately. This only proved to Iason they were not above board, but Austin insisted that Chester was out of line and they were asking politely, not drafting him.

Galifianakis finally relented after another hour of pleading and dealing by Austin.

Austin worried that this team he was assembling had already failed. Diversity was one thing, but the last few were seemingly too focused to think globally.

* * *

><p><strong>Glane, Germany<strong>

The man now known as Zehnkampf had been training for the Olympics when his coaches realized he was barely breaking a sweat while training for the decathlon. It turned out he was the peak of physical perfection, able to accomplish every physical feat asked of him, even if he had never seen it performed before, from gymnastics to various marksman ship tests to dance moves.

Austin briefly wondered if he was a muscle mimic, like Monica Dawson in New Orleans, but the man's coaches admitted that he watched very little television or even sports broadcasts, spending most of his time in his gym, perfecting what skills he had and being trained in new ones. In short he was the pinnacle of perfection, but the coaches worried that history would frown on this apparent "ubermensch" being German.

Austin tried to assure them they would downplay that aspect, even if he was a blonde muscleman.

* * *

><p><strong>A cell, somewhere underground<strong>

Sally Schroeder looked over her files as she approached the man's cell. She had been warned against conversing with the prisoners, but recent news had everyone scrambling. Specials the Company had been keeping track of across the globe had gone missing. Friends of the missing had said they were approached by a well dressed man with a gruff British accent. So far, none of the tracked Specials in North America had gone missing, aside from a number of younger ones, but they already knew that was the work of someone else.

This man, she believed, could be the key to finding them all. Her own ability was data collation, consuming vast amounts of information and finding new angles to perceive it not immediately perceptible to most. She had been tapped to join the Company right before several locations were destroyed, and had been able to memorize numerous files before they had been corrupted. Some believed the attack had been by Hana Gitelman, who seemed to live on in cyberspace after she sacrificed herself some time back.

She took one more glance at the file in her hands, more to steel herself for the conversation than anything else, then knocked. "Hello? Matt?"

She heard a rustling come from within, then a slurred "Hello?" in response. She had obviously woken him up. What else was there for him to do down here?

"May I come in?" she asked.

"Who are you?"

"Sally Schroeder. A friend. Your father-"

He cut her off with his personal opinion of his absent father. She ignored the rude language as best she could.

"Your father doesn't know I'm here," she finished.

A heavy sigh. "Come in, I guess," he replied in a defeated voice.

She nodded to the guard, who allowed her entry. She stepped in and waited for the guard to lock the door behind her. Glancing around the dimly lit cell, she saw Matt Parkman was wearing a very wrinkled prison jumpsuit, his short hair mussed from sleeping and a bleary eyed yet angry look on his unshaven face. She ignored the red light coming from the camera in the far corner.

"You're looking well," she lied as he motioned her to pull out the chair against the wall opposite him. A well worn deck of cards lay scattered on the table. "Tired of playing solitaire?" she inquired, but his scowl was her only answer. She slid the pile aside and laid her folder on the table.

"What do you want?" he finally asked, sizing her up. She was about his age; her blonde hair was pulled back in a bun; not fat, but not skinny, either. A bit heavier than Janice, he guessed. She had a pleasant face, but it was all business at the moment.

"Do you know why you're here, Officer Parkman?" she asked.

"I'm not a cop. Not anymore," he groused.

"Yes, but you were. You made Detective while briefly working for the NYPD, I understand? When you returned to the LAPD, you retained that rank."

He looked away, then nodded. "Seems like a lifetime ago."

"You were investigating the murder of Kaito Nakamura while in New York?"

He flinched at the M-word, but looked back to her. "Yeah?"

"Father of Hiro Nakamura?"

Matt shrugged. "I never got to ask. Figured it was just a coincidence?" he told her, then remembered. "No, wait, Ando. He mentioned Hiro, but that he was out of town at the time? I finally met him later, but his father's murder was the least of our problems at the time." He paused then gave a slight chuckle. "Heck, he could barely remember who _he_ was, when we finally met." He made a mental note to learn Japanese at some point, especially since he had nothing else to do at the moment, he told himself.

"Do you know where Mr. Nakamura is at present?"

Matt shook his head. "He came to me when I was in jail in California, said he had a lawyer coming to bail me out. Your people were already there to get me. He took off, I don't know where," he informed her, then added, "or when."

She nodded. "What about Mohinder Suresh and Molly Walker?"

Matt tensed up. "India."

"Not Tokyo?"

Matt looked at her in confusion. "I told him to keep Molly safe in India?"

"So you weren't aware Dr. Suresh had made contact with Mr. Masahashi in Tokyo?"

Matt shook his head, the name Masahashi not ringing a bell, but she seemed to push an image of Ando at him before Matt made the connection.

She gave a slight nod. "That's alright. They will be here soon enough."

Matt fought to jump to his feet. "Excuse me?"

She opened the folder, searched for a piece of paper then handed it to Matt. He glanced at it, trying to struggle to understand it for a second.

Seeing his confusion, she explained it for him as several names came into his mental focus. "I'm sorry, I almost forgot about your dyslexia. It says our agents have detained Mr. Nakamura, Dr. Suresh, and two minors, Ms. Walker and a Sanjog Iyer?"

Matt had never heard of the last name, but it didn't matter. The others were what concerned him. "_Detained_? Is that what my father is calling this?" he said in a quiet anger, motioning to the cell.

"It's-It's not like that," she protested.

"Then why is there another round up of people like me?" he demanded.

"Claire Bennet," was her reply.

Matt rolled his eyes. "Of course," he muttered, finally dropping back to his cot in defeat. He worked his sore ankle when he did. His father had sent someone down earlier to check he didn't break it, but jumping up and stomping around were doing it no favors.

Sally continued. "She didn't realize the ramifications to exposing herself like she did. There are parties out there who want to turn people like us into an army."

Matt knew that "parties" meant various world governments. The global arms race just got a lot stickier and dangerous. "So we were taken against our will to become someone else's army?" Matt accused.

"I saw the parallels, myself, and protested the same as you did," she claimed. "Director Parkman has assured me that this is only a training facility so you can defend yourselves."

"What's the difference?" Matt retorted, still stinging from hearing his father was "Director" for this place, wherever it was.

She was prepared for this. Opening her file, she began reading a list of abilities to him. "Most of the people training here are low-level or defensive abilities, a few fliers; an ESPer; we've only been able to locate one telekinetic; self-camouflage; low-level probability; a swimmer; someone who can turn their skin to metal at will; someone who can condense his size under certain conditions; and a recent arrival can manipulate microwaves."

Matt studied her for a minute. "I know the Company's party line: One of Us, One of Them. Don't tell me some, if not all, of these guards don't have abilities, too."

She hesitated, but gave a slight nod. "You and your father are the only telepaths, but most of the soldiers already here were recruited from the remains of the Company. A number of super-strength and other passive abilities. We've only got one teleporter until Nakamura arrives, but one other recent arrival I understand you are already familiar with? He can create duplicates of himself."

Matt gave her a strange look. His hand casually rubbed the knee Eli Polsky had broken when he invaded his home in an attempt to kill him, Peter, and Sylar. If he was here, then other members of the Carnival that Bennet and Peter went to stop were likely here as well.

Sally caught his reaction, but ignored it. "In fact, there is a woman on staff who has the ability to alter fabrics to withstand just about anything. We've tested them against fire, small arms fire, blades-"

Matt's brief annoyance turned to curiosity. "Alter how?"

"I'm not exactly sure of the process, but her, um, body secretes a fluid that can make common fabrics practically indestructible," she admitted. "In fact..."

Matt didn't wait for her to finish. He understood the implication that the jumpsuit he had been given had been "altered" and he quickly shucked the top half, skeeved out. The bottom would have to wait until she left. "Anything else you'd like to share?" he asked.

"I'm just trying to impress upon you that we're not the bad guys, here, Mr. Parkman."

"I'm being held against my will in a cell with no communication from the outside, except on my father's say-so, and there are people out there saying I murdered my wife and missing son as my latest terrorist act!" It was hard not to let his anger show at this point. "In fact, you came down here to inform me that more of my friends and my foster daughter are headed here against their wills, as well!"

"Mr. Parkman, I-"

"What did you expect me to do? Huh? Just go along with that fat bastard on his word? He abandoned me and my mother when I was little, faked his death in front of a friend, and all along, he was involved in some-some _nefarious_ schemes on a global scale, to put it mildly!"

She calmly stood and knocked on the door. "I was sent here to try and explain what was going on, Matt," she informed him. "I am sorry I upset you so."

The guard let her out, leaving Matt alone once more, seething in his anger. He didn't even realize she had left her files behind until after he swatted them off the small table in frustration. It was a few minutes before he calmed down and glanced through the scattered pile as he gathered them up.

Whatever Sally Schroeder had originally been sent down to do with Matt, she was actually giving him the resources to break out, he soon realized. He glanced to the door, as if she had still been there and wondered who's side she was really on?

* * *

><p><strong>Ohio <strong>

Ann was inconsolable after the loss of her boys. Emma sat with her as she cried herself to sleep once more. Ann wasn't the only one to lose someone, but she had admitted the father was no longer around, either, making the loss harder on her.

Once she was asleep, Emma slipped from her trailer to meet with Edgar, Tracy, Sparrow, and the others. They were once again reviewing the reports of what had happened and how to prepare if it happened again. Emma tried to follow along, but with her hearing, she couldn't keep up with the various people talking over each other, offering their often conflicting opinions.

She stepped back out to check on the handful who had been injured in the confusion, when friend had attacked friend and chaos reigned from a still unknown assailant who had taken all the younger denizens of their valley village. She was lost in her thoughts as she crossed the main drive, oblivious to anything not directly in front of her until Edgar pulled her out of harm's way as Ann slammed on her brakes. She paused only to see that Emma was okay before she floored her minivan once more and sped out of the encampment.

Edgar made sure Emma was uninjured before speeding after the distraught mother. He knocked on her window as she tore down the road. In response, she flipped him off and screamed "I need to find my boys!"

"We can help you!" he yelled through the door, easily keeping pace. He tried to open the door to climb in, but the van's child safety locks prevented the doors from opening, especially while moving.

"You said we were safe there! You lied!" she cried.

"Work with us!" he begged. "You don't even know where to start looking!"

"I've got my mother's intuition and I'm not going to stop until I find them!" she yelled back and floored her van.

Edgar knew he was fighting a losing battle and debated whether to keep up the pursuit or return to the valley. "We need to work together!" he pleaded, but she ignored him. "You know where to find us if you change your mind," he offered, placing a hand on the window. She ignored him and kept her tear-filled eyes on the road. He finally gave up keeping pace, slowed, then headed back to their village.

He doubted he had gone a quarter mile when he heard the diesel horn blaring and a heart dropping screech of tires and metal. The blood drained from his face as he raced after the van once more. "_No_," he whispered under his breath as he saw what had happened. Some logger truck had ignored the highway merge the road he had been running lead to and didn't see her coming. "_NO!_" he screamed again as he approached the wreckage, hoping against hope, but it was obvious even from a distance.

There was no chance she had survived.

* * *

><p><strong>California<strong>

"So what do we do now?" Daniel Bloom asked the other pair investigating the scene of Janice Parkman's parents' lake house where she had perished. He was now fully convinced that she had been murdered and her son kidnapped, unlike his captain. Houk had been open to that possibility before they found out who her husband was and declared him the murderer of both, even if it meant Matt Parkman had used his now-publicly known telepathy to convince her to commit suicide.

"Now? _You_ go back to your patrol routine, while _we_ chase after Sylar and hope he can find and free Matt from whoever took him," Audrey Hanson advised the local police officer.

Bloom was undeterred. "The dude said you lied to him about knowing where Parkman was. Then he takes off flying to, and I'm just guessing here, wherever you two came from."

Lukas Bahn gave their staring competition about twenty seconds. "Wherever he went, Gray's beyond my tracking range, now."

"You're about ten pounds of useful in a galaxy of help, dude," Bloom informed the other man.

Audrey fought the urge to laugh at this. She pressed her palm to her head for a second before continuing. "Seriously, Bloom, go back home. This is way out of your league. You've done what you can, now go back to your life and hope it doesn't get any worse."

"Fuck that. I'm coming with you," he declared. "Matt's innocent and we all know it. I intend to prove it with or without you."

"You'll only be in our way," Audrey argued.

"Like you were in that guy's way?" he countered, pointing up after Gabriel Gray. "What about a little inter-departmental cooperation?"

Audrey's lip curled in annoyance. "Fine. I'm not going to be responsible for you," she declared and headed for her car. "Déjà vu all over again!" she grumbled, glaring at Bloom as she got in.

"Oh, this is going to be a fun ride back to base," Bahn muttered under his breath as he followed her.

Bloom hopped on his Harley and pulled his helmet on, he didn't let them get out of his sight the whole way back to LA. He called his wife from LAX, assuring her he was alright and had to go out of town for a few days for some follow-up on an investigation. She was not amused. Even less so when he asked her to bring him a bag of clothes and to pick up his bike from the airport while he would be gone.

* * *

><p><strong>A former military base, somewhere in the US<strong>

The group that had been captured in the breakout were being led back to their barracks under guard. An extra precaution of manacling them together like prisoners had been taken, in case one of them tried to start anything again. Most of them were upset at this, but knew they were being punished for their actions. Just ahead of the group, was another recent arrival, being led into the shared barracks for the first time.

Steven Elliot and Ian Alexander were at the head of the double line and saw the disturbance first and came to a halt. Their guards were about to yell at them, but saw why they had stopped. They ordered the group not to try anything.

Ahead, Luke Campbell was resisting his guards. "You can't hold me!" he protested. "I haven't done anything wrong! You haven't even read me my rights!"

"Sir, please calm down!" his guards began to argue, but several saw Luke glaring at him and the captured squad could see the air around Luke begin to shimmer from heat.

"Is he the pyro?" Steve asked Ian.

Ian shook his head. "No, but it's something similar. I don't know what?" A feeling of dread crept over him. "Be ready, something's about to hit the fan," he whispered.

The guard who had been arguing with Luke suddenly collapsed from the heat. He had barely hit the ground when his sidearm's bullets exploded and he screamed in pain. Luke spun and aimed his cuffed hands at the guards accompanying the squad. "Get down!" someone yelled as they all tried to make themselves as low as possible, which being chained to others made harder. Dan Walters purposefully crouched over his daughter, Violet, to protect her.

They could hear the guards screaming in pain as they were assaulted by waves of controlled microwaves boiling them from the inside. None of the squad had any abilities to counter that, and tried to remain as unobtrusive as possible.

One of the guards near Dan fell, and he could see the man's flesh blistering, as if cooked from the inside out. He cried out at the boy, "Stop it! They didn't hurt you! We don't want to be here, either!"

"I see how they treat us! This is another Gitmo! Another Holocaust!" Luke screamed. "This isn't even the first time they tried to do this to us!" He then aimed at another guard, who began screaming in agony from the boy's assault.

Dan had enough and tried to stand, despite his shackles. "We didn't do anything either, but this isn't the way!"

Luke stopped caring. He aimed at the man, who's larger size made him an easy target. Dan screamed out in agony, but refused to drop. In fact, his shackles seemed to fall away as the others looked on in surprise. Dan's screams became a roar of agony and he charged the boy who now looked like he was facing down a freight train. It took the others a moment to register he had grown, in height as well as bulk.

"Dan, Stop!" Steve called out, but the man couldn't or wouldn't acknowledge him.

More soldiers had arrived and not understanding what was happening, began firing at the larger man. Dan barely felt them, but turned and roared at them in rage. As he did, his body swelled again, his clothes were already ripping at the seams and he seemed oblivious to the fact in his rage.

Steve, Ian, Violet, and the others looked on in awe as Dan grew in front of them, becoming a massive creature seemingly composed purely of muscle. "He's hulked out," Ian gasped, finding no other reference to their new friend's transformation.

"I thought he said he shrank?" Steve asked Violet.

"He does?" she gasped incredulous at her father, scared for what was happening to him. "Dad?" she called to him. "Daddy, what's happening to you?"

Her shouts seemed to draw his attention. The soldiers had stopped firing, seeing that their bullets and tranq darts had no effect on this behemoth. "Talk to him!" Ian urged her.

Violet stood and pleaded with her father. "Dad? Please, there's no reason to get mad at everyone. Please, daddy! Please."

He seemed to regard her for a long moment, as if trying to remember who she was. He then noticed several more soldiers arrive and take up positions against him. He roared at them again before turning back to his daughter.

"Daddy, what happened to you?" she asked again, crying. "I don't understand? Why is this happening? Why us?"

He approached her slowly, lifting her chin with his large hand. She glanced at his body, noting he was a good six inches taller and any trace of his fat had turned into pure muscle. The sight of him reminded her of those near-grotesqueries of men on the cover of those muscle magazines she saw on nearly every magazine stand. The uniform that had been provided for them, and already strained from his bulk, had ripped to shreds with the transformation.

The transformed man then caught movement off to the side and began to roar again, but the heavyset man approaching held up his hands to show he meant no harm.

Maury Parkman pushed "_calm_" and "_sleep_" at the near eight foot tall mass of muscle staring him down. It didn't seem to have any effect. This whole situation was unexpected. The man was supposed to have the ability of mass compression -shrinking- not this. That was when Maury remembered the man also had a daughter. He glanced over to who the man had been with and saw the young woman crying and pleading with him.

Maury moved closer to her and the behemoth roared again.

"Mr. Walters? Dan? We need you to calm down, please," Maury said in a calm, determined voice. His mental push of the same command began to show with a slight trickle of blood from his nostril. He had to end this now, but the man's rage blocked any mental intrusion.

Suddenly, Dan screamed out in pain again, arching back as if struck from behind. Maury glanced over and saw the recent arrival, Luke Campbell, standing there with his hands clasped together as if firing a handgun. He was pointing at Dan. Walters turned and charged, only stumbling for a brief second when Luke jabbed his hands at the man again, the shimmer in the air making his latest attack obvious.

"Campbell, stand down!" Maury shouted, but it was too late. Dan grabbed the young man around the throat with one hand, screamed into his face and prepared to throw him.

Everything seemed to stop for a moment, then Dan's legs fell out from under him, causing him to land on the tarmac on his back. Luke fell from his grasp and Dan roared once more as he fought to get back up. Something was pinning him down.

Maury glanced to the telekinetic David Berman, but he was cowering towards the back of the insurgent group. The report on the breakout attempt showed he had strained himself keeping aloft earlier. There was no way he was strong enough to flatten the enraged Walters.

Luke scrambled away from the man he had attacked, clawing at his throat and coughing. He suddenly fell flat as if a heavy weight had pinned him, as well. The others looked on in confusion.

"Luke, what are you doing?" came a voice from above. Maury shuddered as he recognized it.

Gabriel Gray dropped down from the sky, arms crossed and an annoyed look on his face.

"Sylar," Maury hissed under his breath as Luke shouted the name in triumph.

"Sylar! Kill him! He tried to kill me!" Campbell ordered his onetime traveling companion. "Kill them all! They're going to kill us!"

The tall, dark featured man touched down on the tarmac and glowered at the youth. "That's not what I saw happen," he corrected. "I saw you attack those soldiers and the others. When that man tried to defend them, you attacked him, unprovoked as well."

"That's not what happened!" Luke denied. "They're going to kill us all!"

Gabriel glanced over the injured and cowering crowd. Only Maury and Violet stood amongst them. He waved a hand and the various manacles fell from the captive Specials. "Mr. Parkman?" he addressed Maury. "What do you say? Were these people being led to slaughter or not?"

"This is a training facility," he admitted. "I know who you are and I know it would be useless to lie to you." He took a step forward. "True, most of these people were brought here against their will, but they've been drafted into a defense force now that their abilities have been exposed by that Bennet girl."

"Claire. Yes," he acknowledged. "Things haven't exactly gone the way she thought they would, have they?" He cocked his head, as if studying the other man for a second.

"I take it you're restraining Mr. Walters until he calms down?" Maury inquired.

"Yes, it's not too much effort," he replied, glancing back to the larger man. He could already see the man was shrinking slightly. He turned back to Maury. "I'm actually here on another matter."

"Oh?" Maury replied nervously.

"Yes, I'm looking for your son, Mr. Parkman. Where's Matt?

Maury gulped.

* * *

><p><strong>New York City<strong>

"We welcome back to the show, young Claire Bennet," Andy announced, rising and greeting the young woman. "I hear you've had a pretty busy time since your last appearance?" he asked once they had settled down.

"Yeah, I don't even-what day _is_ this?" she quipped, only half-joking. "It's nice to see you again."

"So you didn't bring your entourage?"

Claire squirmed. "No, ah, we've all been, uh, busy?" she stammered. She knew what was coming next: questions about Matt being a terrorist.

"So I hear?" he gave a nervous chuckle, glancing to his director. "What do you, uh, what do you say to all those naysayers who think you're pulling a fast one and this is all some publicity stunt?"

The question was not unexpected. "Well, I have a more passive ability, but people like me do exist and have been around for a lot longer than most people realize," she explained.

"Do you think there's been a conspiracy to keep this from the general public?"

"What-what do you mean?"

Andy nervously glanced down to his note cards. "I'm, uh, I'm told we have, uh, someone here tonight who has proof of this?"

Claire realized she had been set up, and Andy was just a pawn in whoever's game this was. She had a very short list of suspects and put on her game face. "Well, I'd love to debate them, but that isn't the usual format for this show, is it?"

"No. No, it's not," he agreed with a heavy sigh, making his displeasure known. "Let's bring out our next guest, then," he motioned to the side of the stage. "I'm told you know him, Claire? Lyle Bennet?"

"Lyle?" she echoed, turning to see her brother stalk toward her, thick folder in hand. "_Lyle?_"

"Hello, Claire."

His cool greeting wasn't what worried her. She saw the helix design on the folder in his hand. "Lyle? What is that?" she accused.

"Proof this whole thing is a sham and you people are a menace," he declared.

Claire glanced to Andy, who was nearly ashen, realizing he was probably out of a job after this fiasco. "W-w-what are you talking about?" he finally babbled.

"I have physical proof here, of a conspiracy that people like Claire and her _biological_ family are behind a global conspiracy to hide their kind from the rest of the world," he claimed, "policing their own, acting as judge and jury, and occasionally executioner to those they couldn't control."

"Lyle, are you insane?" she exclaimed.

"The Petrelli's have been masterminding and orchestrating these people for decades, if not longer," he declared.

"What are you talking about, Lyle? Does dad know you have those files?"

"I'm sorry?" Andy interrupted the siblings. "Claire, did you just confirm what he's accusing you of?"

"What? Wait, I- what?"

"Your fat, murdering friend, Parkman? There are files on him and dozens of others going back decades," he slapped the file. "I think he was set up. He's not a terrorist, you people are!"

Claire looked around in confusion and amazement her brother would do this to her. "Lyle, you are in so much trouble-"

He slapped her. She reeled back in shock as Andy tried to move himself between them. "Kids! No fighting!"

Before anyone could do anything else, a swarm of men in dark suits swarmed in from everywhere. Claire had seen them backstage, but merely assumed they were extra security the network had supplied. The audience had become a mass of confusion and hysteria was spreading throughout as the dark suited men took the stage.

As far as anyone watching at home was concerned, the show was merely having "technical difficulties" after Lyle's accusation. The men in suits had cut the transmission before storming the stage.

Angela Petrelli frowned and turned the TV off as the doorbell rang. She hadn't expected company. Something felt off to her, so she slid her handgun in the back of her pantsuit, just in case. Opening the door, she was shocked to see who stood there: Tim Petrelli.

"You missed your brother's funeral," was all she could think to say.

"Really? Which one?" he replied, a menacing smile on his face. "And my nephew's, I hear as well?"

"What do you want?" she demanded.

"Your soul," he said and reached for her.

She immediately pulled out her gun and began firing. He faded away like the Cheshire cat and she realized she was firing into the news crew still staked outside her home. She saw a couple people fall, others started screaming and running away. She saw at least one brave cameraman filming her. She took aim and fired directly at the camera, the man's head exploding like an overripe melon.

Angela suddenly found herself sitting up on the sitting parlor divan, files scattered about her as the dream faded away. Claire was nattering away on television again.

* * *

><p>TBC...<p>

6/23/12

Author's note: some of the "original characters" are based on real persons, like "Ann". She didn't die as depicted in this story, but I still dream of her two years after her passing. RIP.


	11. Ch10 Nature of the Beast

HEROES - Volume 6: Brave New World

Chapter 10: Nature of the Beast

Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable characters, just playing with Tim Kring's toys.

A/N - show canon; GN semi-canon/references. A couple OCs.

* * *

><p>"Yes, I'm looking for your son, Mr. Parkman. Where's Matt?<p>

Maury gulped. "M-M-Matt? Why do you want him?"

Gabriel Gray gave a soft smirk. "I'm here to help him."

"Like you 'helped' so many others you killed?" Maury accused. He would have noticed the reactions from the others in front of him if the now muscle-bound Dan Walters hadn't growled and tried to get up.

Gray turned back to him and made a grimace, obviously the exertion of keeping the raging muscle man pinned down was wearing on him. "Tell him to sleep, Parkman," he urged as he began whistling an odd note.

Maury did as he was bidden, and saw the man relax into unconsciousness. "I've heard that whistling before," he informed Gray. He took the option of telepathically calling in the base paramedics as well.

Gabriel turned his attention back to the telepath. "Like it? I learned it from my father," he admitted.

"Samson?" Maury hissed, aware the others were listening in. "You killed him, too? Took his ability?"

Gray gave a soft chuckle. "No. I don't need to do that, not anymore. In fact, I didn't need to do that to my father, as he was barely alive when I saw him last. Cancer."

Maury scowled, unsure whether to believe him or not. He sensed more of the soldiers nearing and turned to order the nearest to take Gray into custody, but the man's fist came flying at him, knocking him back into a wall. He was on Maury in an instant.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he exclaimed at the larger man. "Did you think you and Angela were going to get away with this again?" he accused.

The voice was familiar to Maury, one he knew well and regretted hearing. "Matt? You don't understand!"

"Kidnapping innocent people who want to live their lives in peace and locking them up, or training them into some super-army?" he accused. "You're insane! This will never work!"

"Matt, listen to me! We have our reasons!" he pleaded.

"You locked me up in a cell and you're up here with Sylar of all people! Sylar!" He punched his father again. He held his sidearm in his father's face. "You disgust me, you fat piece of-"

"Matt! Stop!" said the voice that still haunted Matt's nightmares.

Matt glanced over to see Sylar reaching for him and the gun flew out of his hand into Gray's. The clip fell to the pavement. Before either could make a move, several of the shackles came flying at Sylar, but he easily deflected them, and glared at the group's telekinetic as the source. Several of the men had gotten up and taken up defensive stances to the drama between the three arguers.

"You don't know what's going on, Matt," Maury pleaded again, struggling against his son.

Matt leaned into his father, his forearm against the man's thick throat. "You should know better than this!" he accused. "Another group rounded up to be used as experiments and slaughtered? You sicken me, old man!"

"W-What?" Maury stared at his son aghast. "It's not like that, Matty."

"I told you not to call me that," he warned, pressing into his father's throat harder.

"Matt, listen to me," Gray urged. "I only just arrived and helped stop some trouble." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at Walters. "I came here to find you, so we could find your son."

"Liar!" he shot back. "After everything you've done to me? To others? You're nothing but a rabid killer dog and need to be put down."

Steven Elliot spoke up. "Dude, he's telling the truth. He just saved us from that kid and helped stop Dan's 'roid rage or whatever happened to hi- aaghk!" He grabbed his head in pain.

Matt glowered at the group, filling those in the immediate area in telepathically on Sylar, with Steven taking the initial brunt. He told them about Sylar killing Mohinder's father and Molly's parents up to Nathan and what he did to Matt and his wife, including Matt's attempt to stop him in Odessa with his 'suicide by cop' ploy.

"Do you believe me now?" Matt demanded. "This man is a killer and-"

"You bastard!" One of the soldier's who had arrived with Matt shouted and drew his weapon, firing at Gray. He fell to the tarmac in shock as the man kept firing until his clip was empty. "You sick bastard! That's for my brother, you murdering scum!"

"Put the gun down, soldier!" Maury ordered.

Col. Davis seemed to have noticed the Parkmans for the first time at this outburst. Matt was still holding his father against the wall, as the soldier approached them.

"You! You did this! You set me up!" he accused. He pulled out his back-up piece.

"No," Matt told him. "If anyone shoots this man, it's going to be me!"

"Everybody settle down!" Ian Alexander shouted. "We've got people seriously hurt here and you idiots are acting like grade school bullies!"

Maury took advantage of his distraction. He mentally pushed Davis to sleep as he punched Matt in the gut, shoving him back and pushed the same idea into him. Matt tried to fight it, but his weak ankle proved to be his undoing as Maury pushed himself off the wall into his son, knocking him to the tarmac, knocking the wind out of him and hitting his head before he finally succumbed to his father's order.

Maury looked up at the others and ordered them to sleep as well. Ian mumbled "someone's coming" before falling himself. Before he could wonder what the man meant, a soldier came running up to him, "We've got an inbound headed our way, sir! Radar indicates it's a small object, but we don't know if it's a missile or a flyer!"

Maury glanced back to the sleeping esper when a sonic boom erupted overhead and a hurtling object crashed at the edge of the base tarmac. Soldiers scrambled into defensive positions around the crater as Maury rushed to see for himself what had crashed. In the bottom of the newly made pit, was an unconscious man. Maury sighed and ordered the men to go down and retrieve the body before stepping aside and pulling out his cell phone.

"Angela? We've got problems. I just had Sylar and my son going a round and now your boy crashes into my base."

"We've got bigger problems than that, right now. My late husband's brother is on the move, and my granddaughter is about to exacerbate things for us."

"Tim's alive? I, uh, I understand. I'll try to keep things under control here. Nakamura and Suresh should be arriving in a few hours. I just got word they had a delay in California."

"We need them ready, Maury."

He glanced back to where the soldiers were fussing over his son. "I know, we're on a tight schedule and don't have time to waste."

* * *

><p><strong>New York City<strong>

"Do you think there's been a conspiracy to keep this from the general public?"

"What-what do you mean?" Claire stammered, glancing nervously to the cameras and the audience beyond.

Andy nervously glanced down to his note cards. "I'm uh, I'm told we have, uh, someone here tonight who has proof of this?" He pulled at the collar of his shirt, as if it was too tight.

Claire realized she had been set up, and felt sorry that Andy was just a pawn in whoever's game this was. She had a very short list of suspects and put on her game face. "Well, I'd love to debate them, but that isn't the usual format for this show, is it?"

"No. No, it's not," he agreed with a heavy sigh, making his displeasure known. "Let's bring out our next guest, then," he motioned to the side of the stage. "I'm told you know him, Claire? Larry, uh, sorry, _Lyle_ Bennet?" he stumbled, trying to read the hastily handwritten note card.

"Lyle?" she echoed, turning to see her brother stalk toward her, thick folder in hand. "_Lyle?_"

"Hello, Claire."

His cool greeting wasn't what worried her. She saw the helix design on the folder in his hand. "Lyle? What is that?" she accused.

"Proof this whole thing is a sham and you people are a menace," he declared.

Claire glanced to Andy, who was nearly ashen, realizing he was probably out of a job after this fiasco. "W-w-what are you talking about?" he finally babbled.

"I have physical proof here, of a conspiracy that people like Claire and her _biological_ family are behind a global conspiracy to hide their kind from the rest of the world," he claimed. "Policing their own, acting as judge and jury, and occasionally executioner to those they couldn't control."

"Lyle, are you insane?" she exclaimed.

"The Petrelli's have been masterminding and orchestrating these people for decades, if not longer," he declared to the audience.

"What are you talking about, Lyle? Does dad know you have those files?"

"I'm sorry?" Andy interrupted the siblings. "Claire, did you just confirm what he's accusing you of?"

She flipped back to Andy in confusion. "What? Wait, I- what?" She was off balance and Lyle knew it.

"Your fat friend, that wife murdering terrorist, Parkman? There are files on him and dozens of others going back decades," he slapped the file. "I think he was set up. He's not a terrorist, you people are!"

Claire looked around in confusion and amazement that her brother would do this to her. "Lyle, you are in so much trouble-"

He slapped her. She reeled back in shock as Andy tried to move himself between them. "Kids! No fighting!"

Before anyone could do anything else, a swarm of men in dark suits swarmed in from everywhere. Claire had seen them backstage, but merely assumed they were extra security the network had supplied. The audience had become a mass of confusion and hysteria was spreading throughout as the dark suited men took the stage.

Had anyone been watching live at home, the show was merely having "technical difficulties" after Lyle's arrival and accusation. The men in suits had cut the recording before storming the stage. They would never know Andy had Claire Bennet back on his show.

Claire had no idea what was going on until a familiar face stepped out of the swarm of men. "Rene?" she asked in bewilderment, as he quickly put Lyle, Andy, and finally her to sleep.

Had she been paying better attention, she would have realized that all the suited "security" men backstage bore the same face, one she never got a good look at the Sullivan Brothers Carnival. Or more familiar faces in the audience. She would also never know the entire audience had been filled with Company agents or that the show's producers had been strong armed into going along, with the assurance that neither the host, band, nor necessary crew would be harmed or remember what happened.

Eric Doyle stepped up to the tall quiet man as he waited for the other agents to evacuate their two quarry and let the studio get back to business. "I walked Andy back to his dressing room. Do you need any help with Claire?" he asked.

"No. I will watch over her," he replied, much to the puppeteer's dismay.

"We, uh, we're doing the right thing, aren't we?"

The Haitian said nothing as he helped Doyle lift Claire onto a stretcher for her removal, before moving on to her brother.

* * *

><p>Micah Sanders sat up in bed. He felt tired and sluggish, as if he had overslept, or when his mother had given him some strong cold medicine. He fought the urge to go back to sleep (again?) as his stomach growled. He had no idea when the last time he ate was, or even what day it was.<p>

He didn't recognize the room he was in. It was sparse beside the two bunk beds, which were unoccupied, and the nightstand with the clock.

The last he remembered was crashing at Sparrow's with his cousin Monica, but this wasn't the room he fell asleep in. His first instinct was to check for his laptop, but there was no sign of it or any other electronic device in the room, save the digital alarm clock. It didn't even have a radio.

He quietly checked the door. Unlocked. He breathed a sigh of relief and began to open it. There was a chain on the outside, but he could see through the crack into the hall beyond. He couldn't see anyone, but could hear a few faint voices having a conversation nearby. They were talking too quietly for him to make out any words.

Glancing back to the clock, he hoped to use the alarm as a microphone, to eavesdrop, but even that would be beyond it's meager capabilities. Wherever he was and whoever kidnapped him, knew about his ability and had taken a few precautions to keep him quiet and in the dark.

He strained to listen to the conversation for another minute, but it was no use. He began to close the door when he heard another sound. A baby faintly crying. It was close by and growing louder. He realized it was the room next to his. He could hear steps approaching. "It's probably just the Parkman baby again," a female voice said.

Micah quietly closed his door and listened as she unchained and entered the room next door. He pressed his ear against the wall, trying to hear. Parkman? He wondered if that was Matt's baby he told Hiro to rescue during the Building 26 round up? He soon realized either the woman was talking too softly or the wall was too thick for him as he couldn't hear more than a few muffled squeaks from the baby.

He realized that the baby had been crying when she opened the door. That could have woken up others, too. He went to the door and tried to open it as if for the first time. "Hello?" he called out. "Is anyone there? Where am I?" he demanded as if he had just woken.

He heard more voices come from the far end of the hall. A man appeared, gaunt, balding, with wisps of light blond hair behind his ears. He looked like a farmer, wearing an old white t-shirt with bib coveralls and dirty, heavy duty work boots. "Hey, let me out!" he demanded. "Where am I?" he yelled, hoping (unfortunately) that there were others in his predicament. The bunk beds suggested that there were going to be more abductions.

The man stood in front of his door. "You're awake? Are you hungry?"

"Where am I? Where's my mother?" Micah demanded, giving the man the typical scared kid response. The glazed expression on his face suggested he had been drugged or worse, Micah realized. Playing innocent would be easier for him, at least.

"I'll bring you a sandwich," the man said dully, and turned back down the hall. Micah noticed he also seemed to be walking stiffly.

"Who's there?" a young voice called out.

The man stopped, mumbled "More sandwiches" before shuffling along.

"Who are you?" Micah asked. The door across the way opened a crack. He could see two young boys peeking out, but they quickly shut it.

Micah was about to ask why, but then noticed the light from the next room as the door next to his opened and an older, slightly heavy woman with long, frizzy auburn hair appeared. She wore a faded loose black blouse and matching slacks with a small apron tied around her waist. She glanced at him, her dull face tired but curious. "Can I help you?"

"Who are you? I want my mommy!" he demanded again.

"I'll get you a sandwich," she replied in the same tone as the man, before turning and leaving.

"Let us go!" he hollered after her, but she didn't react.

_Is she gone?_

"Yeah, I think so," Micah replied before realizing he hadn't actually heard anything. "Wait, what?"

_Shh! They're coming back. Be ready._

The man reentered the hall. He held a tray of sandwiches and juice boxes. "Step back," he said as he unlatched Micah's door chain.

Micah did as he was told, letting the man enter before whining again, "I want my mommy!" and upending the tray, sending sandwiches and juice flying. The man fumbled, trying to catch them as Micah ran out the door across the hall. He unlatched the boys' door then ran across to the baby's room, but found it had a deadlock on it.

"What are you doing?" the man asked, still in a monotonous tone. "Back to your room unless you have to use the bathroom."

Micah was briefly taken aback that the man wasn't attacking him and forcing him back inside the bedroom. "Uh, yeah, I gotta go, real bad," he half-lied while doing the pee-pee dance.

"The bathroom is this way," the man said, motioning Micah to follow him to the end of the hall. Before following him, Micah spared a glance to the twins' room and saw they were peeking out, looking for their opportunity.

_What do we do?_

Micah now realized they were telepathic, like Matt Parkman. _My room_ was all he could think to tell them. The man stood watch outside the door while Micah tried to do his business. The boys concentrated and made him ignore them as they crossed the hall. They sent Micah the message they made it and waited for his return. The man seemed not to notice them or care when he returned Micah to his room and chained the door once more behind him.

The boys quickly got down to business, talking while they ate the sandwiches. "My name's Micah Sanders, what's yours?"

"Kyle and Nathan," they replied in unison. Micah gave a slight recoil. They looked at each other and then closed their eyes in concentration.

"Sorry," one said. "We sometimes forget to disengage when we're with others. I'm Kyle."

"I'm Nathan," the other one said. Micah saw they were nearly identical, but Nathan had cobalt blue eyes while his brother's eyes were more of a blue green.

"You're telepaths?" Micah inquired. They nodded in unison again. "I can talk to machines, but there doesn't seem to be any around here. Were there any in your room?"

They shook their heads. "Only a pair of bunk beds and a clock, like in here," Nathan informed him.

"Didn't you have any roommates?" Kyle asked. Micah shook his head. "We had two other boys, Jack and Aiden. We think they took another girl from the Carnival, too?"

"You guys lived in a Carnival? Do you travel a lot?"

They shook their heads. "It was a recent thing," Nathan explained. "Mom got word to get us underground and took us there. We've only been there about a short time." A dark look passed his face for a moment, as if he were remembering something bad. He glanced out the window.

"Someone was going to attack the carnival," Kyle continued. "A few new people came, then everybody started building up a perimeter, including a moat. There was this girl who could move rocks, that made it easier for them to dig."

"Move rocks?" Micah repeated. "Was she Indian? Did she have a really tall cousin with her?" He mimed popping his mouth and then reached up as high as he could.

"I think so?" Nathan answered. "Another girl came with them, a black girl?"

"Monica!" he blurted before catching himself and glancing warily to the door. "Those were the people I was with when I was taken. My cousin Monica is a muscle mimic, like a gymnast, and the other two are some friends, Sparrow, who can move rocks and her cousin Norm, who can talk to animals."

"We guess? There were so many new faces and names to remember, it got kinda hard to keep them all straight," Kyle told him. "Especially the adults."

"We really don't remember much about coming here," Nathan added. "One minute, we're doing our camp chores, staying out of the way of the adults, then the next, we're here?"

"Same for me," Micah acknowledged. "Monica and I had just gotten to Sparrow's to hide out, and were crashing for the night. I woke up here."

"What do we do now?" Kyle asked.

Micah thought for a second. "You said you had roommates?"

They nodded. "Jack and Aiden," Nathan offered. "Jack can move stuff, while Aiden can float."

"A telekinetic and a flyer?" Micah inquired.

"I think that's what Jack said he could do?" Kyle agreed.

"Aiden can't do much more than hover a few feet, though," Nathan repeated.

"Were there any other kids at this carnival camp?" Micah asked.

"A couple, Jennie Bowman could breathe fire like her parents, and Amanda S-something? She could burn things, too," Nathan said.

"There were those other two kids, Holly and Mac Hunter, remember?" Kyle asked his brother. "I don't think they could do anything yet, though. I heard Ian and Emma say something about them being too young?" Nathan shrugged.

"I don't think age matters, guys," Micah told them. "I heard the woman call the baby in the next room 'Parkman'. I know his ability was active. Do you know if any other kids were taken with you four?"

They both shook their heads. "We've only been awake a few hours," Nathan admitted.

"We've only been allowed one bathroom break, too," Kyle added. "You peeking out your door and the baby crying were the first we knew of any others."

Micah thought about the situation a bit more. "Okay, okay. I'm basically cut off without any machines. Even a cell phone would be helpful."

The boys shook their heads. "We already checked. We don't have ours, not that we needed them," Nathan told him. "I think they ran out of juice while we were there, anyway."

Kyle finished, "They didn't use phones or any other electronics at the Carnival. Not even a TV, that we know of."

"But we have you two to communicate, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, we can talk to each other a lot easier than others," Kyle admitted.

"That could be helpful, especially if we can get one of you two out of here," Micah mused. "Jack can undo the chains, right?" They nodded. "So that takes care of how to get out, and probably how to get to Matt, and get him to safety." He thought a moment more. "Can you two tell how many people are in the house?"

"I toldja we should have tried that, before!" Nathan chided his brother. "Let's link and do a search," he suggested.

Micah waited patiently as the brothers sat facing each other, seemingly staring at the other for a few minutes. They finally gave a shudder and broke free of their trance.

"Okay, we think we've got Matt in the next room, who's awake, then Jennie next to our room across the hall," Nathan explained.

Kyle continued. "Three adults, two women and a man, but they seem to be hypnotized or something. Like they were programmed to keep an eye on us until someone comes back?"

"Sounds to me like our babysitters?" Micah pondered. "But to kidnap us, that sounds like a teleporter and probably another telepath to control our sitters? Did you read any of their minds to see if they had abilities, too?"

Kyle shook his head. "They're normals. They don't even know what day it is."

This worried Micah. The situation as well as Kyle's slang. "Then that means, whoever is behind this is probably out stealing more kids, but only certain kids?" He glanced at the empty bunks. "If they've got Matt in a nursery and Jennie in a room by herself, then they have room for more," he realized. "Who knows if this is their only safe house, or how many they've already taken?"

The twins scowled at this realization. "What can we do?"

"We need to get out of here," he decided. "Tell Jack to unchain our doors, we need to get Matt and Jennie, as well."

The twins nodded and concentrated a moment as Micah went to the door and peeked out. He saw a young boy across the way cautiously peek out, too. Micah nodded and pointed up to the chain on his door. Jack nodded and made a determined face as Micah closed his door again. A few seconds later, he heard a scratching, as if something had fallen loose against the door. He glanced back out and saw they were free and Jack had released his door chain as well. Another boy slightly older than Micah poked his head out.

"I'm Micah," he quietly introduced himself. "Come on, Jennie's next to you and I need Jack to unlock Matt's door," he told them.

The pair cautiously crept into the hall, Jack concentrated again at the other door as Aiden went to check on Jennie. Micah then pointed at the deadlock on Matt's door. "Can you open it?"

Jack nodded and concentrated a moment. Micah glanced down the hall the adults had come from, watching for any sign they were heard when he finally heard the lock click open. Aiden reentered the hall with a girl in tow. Micah motioned to them to be quiet as he crept into the formerly locked room with Jack.

Matt Parkman Jr was standing in his crib and giggled in excitement upon seeing the other children. Micah shushed him as well before picking him up. "We need to get his diaper bag, probably some formula or whatever they've been feeding him," he told Jack.

The boy scoured the room, but could only find the diapers, but no food. He shrugged his shoulders in doubt. Micah scowled. This meant they kept the baby food in the kitchen, which meant dealing with the adults.

He turned to Aiden. "How much can you carry when you fly?"

"I only _float_," the older boy corrected him. "Not much, but I can definitely carry the baby out a window. I bet Jack could help everyone else out." He glanced to the young boy for confirmation.

"I-I can try," he said nervously.

"Where are the twins?" Micah asked. The other three shrugged. Micah went back to his room and found them tying bed sheets together. "Already ahead of me?" he quipped.

Jennie went to the window. "Is there as alarm?"

Aiden was the tallest and checked the frame. "It doesn't look like it?" He glanced to Micah and the twins. "Are we ready to run?"

The others nodded. Jack handed Aiden the diaper bag before he threw open the window. The twins threw out their makeshift rope as Micah handed Matt to the older boy.

"Alright, we try and get to someone in authority, police or fire department," Micah advised. "And if someone happens to find a cell phone, or something with wifi, I can call some friends for help."

The other kids nodded their assent and began climbing out the window, with Jack going first in case someone lost their grip or the sheet-rope came loose to catch them. Aiden slipped out last, slowly lowering himself and the baby down to the ground.

Once out, they got their bearings, which didn't seem like much: no nearby houses and woods surrounding the house and barn, with it's gravel drive. They were afraid they might get caught until they heard a car drive past on pavement on the other side of one side of the woods in the direction of the driveway. Micah motioned them into the woods and they ran with one twin at point and the other at the rear. A simple wire fence at the edge of the wood proved nothing for the kids to climb through. Another fifty feet and they came upon the paved road.

They saw they were in the middle of a long s-curve, at least a half mile in either direction before the road curved into the woods. Micah glanced to Aiden. "You're our air support. Can you get above the tree line, see which way we should go?"

"I'll try," he nodded and handed Matt back to Micah before pushing himself upward. He seemed to be straining the higher he got.

Micah leaned over to Jack. "If he starts to fall, catch him if you can, or try to cushion his fall if you can't."

The boy nodded as they continued to watch Aiden rise. Micah glanced to the others and saw the twins were watching either direction of the road for oncoming traffic. Jennie took it upon herself to watch the house, in case they realized there had been an escape. Aiden seemed to have risen above the tree line and was turning slowly to see where they were.

He finally floated down and shook his head. He was panting from the effort. "Nothing. There doesn't seem to be any sort of town or clearing for miles," he informed them.

"Did you see any traffic?" Jennie asked.

He shook his head. "Woods are too thick to see anyone along the road. I don't think I saw another clearing for a house for a good mile and a half, maybe two miles."

Almost on cue, The twins shouted in unison, "Car!" The group hurried off the road across from the house they had just escaped and hid in the ditch. They saw a black SUV slowly round the curve to the south. It turned into the edge of the drive and stopped.

Two people got out, a dark bearded man in a suit and a well dressed blonde. "They're out here, somewhere," she said.

Micah's jaw dropped. "Tracy?!" he hissed.

She turned and looked right at him. "There!" she pointed. "Come along, little ones," she said. "It's almost time for dinner and you're out of your rooms."

As one, the children stood and began crossing the road towards her. Matt began crying as they neared.

"Keep him back," Joshua Carpenter warned. "Don't let him get too close again."

"Aiden, why don't you walk ahead with Jennie?" Barbara urged. "We'll be along in a minute." The taller boy took the crying baby from Micah and Jennie took the diaper bag, then they headed back toward the house.

"You boys get in the car," Joshua ordered Micah and the twins. He shut the door behind them after they had climbed in, then glared at his wife. "How did they let this happen?" he growled under his breath before rounding the SUV and getting back behind the wheel.

Barbara refused to let him get to her again. She now knew she had sisters, even if one was dead, and Micah had just called her by the other one's name. That couldn't be a coincidence she realized. She was lost in thought over this as they slowly drove back to the house, following the other children up the drive.

Unfortunately, she didn't realize she let her concentration slip. Situated between the twin telepaths, Micah found himself thinking clearly and briefly wondered how they had wound up in the SUV they had just spotted. He glanced to the driver then the blonde woman, but kept his thoughts to himself as he saw the instrument panel of the SUV, including GPS. He concentrated and asked it to send it's coordinates to a particular web address with constant updates.

"What's he doing?" he heard the man say. Rev. Carpenter had glanced in his rearview mirror and saw the twins facing forward, dull eyed, while Micah had his eyes shut in concentration.

"Stop what you are doing right now, young man," Barbara told her nephew.

Having the focus of her direct order, Micah fell under her sway once more, but he had already accomplished his task.

* * *

><p><strong>Los Angeeles International Airport (LAX)<strong>

Audrey Hanson ignored the glare Daniel Bloom's wife gave her when she unceremoniously dropped his duffel at his feet and held out her hand for the keys to his bike. "Thanks, honey," he said and leaned forward to kiss her, but the look she gave him chilled even Audrey. He quickly excused himself from his new companions and went to a quiet corner for a quick conversation before she left.

He returned to Audrey and Lukas Bahn looking glum, hands in his pockets. "She looks nice," Audrey offered.

Bloom dropped back into his seat. "Don't start. How long until our flight gets here, anyway?"

Audrey looked to Bahn. "They've just landed and are waiting to refuel," he informed them. He went back to watching the passing crowds.

"Looking for someone?" Daniel inquired.

Lukas shook his head. "Not really," he claimed as some lady passing by caught his eye for a moment, then he looked to another Hispanic man. Bloom took a second look to realize that the man was pulling his luggage behind him, but a second glance showed there were no wheels despite the fluidity of it's movement suggesting such. Bahn pulled out a notepad and made a note to himself.

Daniel looked to Hanson, who was pointedly ignoring this. Bloom excused himself to go to the bathroom before they left. On his way back, he passed a bank of TV's showing various news channels. He paused a moment to see what was going on when, one by one, they began to broadcast special reports bulletins.

"Breaking news out of Moscow, today," one familiar face was saying. "When the news of young Claire Bennet's apparent suicide jump and immediate healing of her injuries in front of a live TV news crew in New York, many dismissed it as a stunt for a movie or other publicity. She claimed that there were hundreds or more people like her, each with different abilities."

The screen image went to a press conference, but the speaker's voice was too low to make out as the reporter droned on over it, even if Daniel didn't immediate recognize the language, he did recognize the flag and Cyrillic lettering on the podium, despite the scrolling ticker explaining what was happening. There were at least a dozen people on the dais, several were obviously military, while others were in regular suits, but wore sashes with unique badges. One of these latter men carried a long handled hammer over one shoulder, while another stepped forward and held his hands out as they erupted in fire. Another woman began to rise slowly off the floor. The others refrained from a display of power in this clip.

"This was the scene earlier today as the Russian President presented his country's own team of people with special abilities to the world. Within the hour, there was word that a similar announcement would be forthcoming from China. The reactions to both announcements are unclear, but many are now inquiring if announcements would be coming from the US and United Kingdom, among other nations."

Bloom was already running back to his new friends. "Guys, we got trouble!" he panted, pointing back to the TV's. Bahn was now on his phone, and put a lip to his mouth for Daniel to be quiet.

"What's going on?" Audrey asked, apprehension rising from his panic.

Daniel waved his arms about. "This whole _thing_? That blonde girl, Parkman and Sylar Gray? It just went global and the Russians went public with their own Super Comrades!"

Audrey's jaw dropped as he grabbed her hand and drug her back to the media area. They watched the screens for a long minute in growing horror.

"This whole thing? It's a whole new ballgame, isn't it? Forget that whole threat of nuclear war we grew up with, we've got a new arms race, more weapons of mass destruction than ol' Gee-Dubya probably ever knew about," he insisted.

Bahn came up behind them. "Hanson, Bloom, we're leaving." He handed Bloom his duffel.

She nodded absently, unable to tear herself away from the screens. She wondered how long Matt's dad had been preparing for this day, as she finally turned away to leave.

The trio followed Bahn out to the tarmac, flashing their various badges as necessary. Bloom was surprised to see a guarded Boeing 737 waiting for them. "That's our ride?"

"Boeing C-40A Clipper," Bahn informed him as an attendant handed him a clipboard. "We've got a couple for our private use, same craft as the 737 but modified for military use. C-40B is more business and command center, but we talked them into adding those features into this one for us," he explained, handing the clipboard back to the other man. "We used to have another one, until a while back," he added ominously.

"What, like Air Force One?" Daniel inquired.

"Essentially, but with more payload storage space."

"Why would you need that?"

Bahn didn't answer, but gave him an indignant look before boarding. Bloom motioned to Audrey to go next and followed her up the short flight of stairs. He was surprised to find the accommodations a bit roomier than expected, and that they weren't alone.

"Hello again, Audrey," an Indian man said coolly as he rose from his seat at a table. Two pre-teen children were with him, an Indian boy and a girl with dirty blonde hair.

"Dr. Suresh," Bahn greeted him. "How is our patient?"

Suresh frowned at this newcomer. "Mr. Nakamura has been stabilized and your people have sedated him until we reach...wherever it is we are being abducted to."

Bloom could almost feel the anger coming off the man, mostly as he never took his eyes off Audrey. "Abducted?" he repeated. "What, exactly is going on here? Audrey? Bahn?" He saw the girl had turned to see who had joined them.

"Agent Hanson?" she asked timidly.

"Hello, Molly," she smiled back, ignoring Suresh. "It's been a while, hasn't it? You're getting so big!" she took a step closer, but Suresh blocked her way.

"Where are we going, Agent Hanson?" Suresh asked again.

She glanced to one of the agents who had already been on board. He gave a curt nod.

"Fine. You'll find out soon enough, anyway," she huffed. "We're headed to our base of operations. Matt's there." She saw Mohinder flinch and Molly's eyes light up.

"Which is where?" he pressed.

She looked to Bahn. "It's an old military base," he finally admitted. "Helix Base is the former Fort Pickett in Georgia."

Bloom didn't say anything, but he thought he had heard the name before, somewhere. He noticed Suresh look away, as if trying to remember something, probably where Georgia was in the US. Molly hung her head and made a similar expression. "He's in a hospital," she declared. "He's with Peter...and-?" she shuddered in surprise.

Mohinder and Audrey shared a knowing look. "What did you do to him?" he accused. "Why is Matthew in a hospital?"

Bloom was taken aback as he realized what was going on. "Parkman? What? You're the people who took him from our lock up?" he accused Audrey.

Suresh broke his glare from Hanson to look at Bloom. "What?"

"When his wife was-" he started, then remembered the two kids and glanced at them nervously.

"We know what happened to Matthew's wife," Suresh admitted with a hint of sorrow. "Go on."

Bloom continued, fully aware of Molly's angry stare. "We, uh, we brought him in for questioning, and when my captain realized who he was and what he had done in the past, he ordered him arrested for her, uh, her murder. This Japanese guy he knew showed up, to tell him he had gotten Parkman a lawyer. That's when some government types showed up and took him away. They wanted the Japanese guy, too, but he disappeared right in front of us at Parkman's urging. I objected to them taking Parkman, but my captain was told he was being taken into federal custody as a terrorist and was glad to be rid of him." He looked at Mohinder. "Honestly? I think my captain would've, _you_ _know_, if he were given the chance."

Daniel couldn't bring himself to look at the girl now, but he did notice Suresh glaring at Hanson again.

"I, uh, I still believed he was innocent," he continued. "I went back to the scene to try and find something that would help his case, when I ran into these two, and some flying guy showed up."

Mohinder stared at him in confusion. "Flying?"

"Yeah, uh, it was Silas Gray or something like-?"

Before Bloom knew it, Suresh had Hanson lifted in the air by her jacket collar and held her up by one hand without any effort. The security team had their weapons drawn on him an instant later as Molly began crying. "_Sylar?_ Sylar is looking for Matt? Why didn't you stop him?"

Audrey kept her composure, despite being held over a foot off the floor. "He said he wanted to _help_ find them, both of them," she insisted. "He thinks someone else has Matt's son and killed his wife in order to take him."

One of the security guards nudged Suresh with the barrel of his rifle. "Put Agent Hanson down, now, Doctor."

Mohinder gave him an annoyed glance. "Oh please, like you would shoot up your own airplane. Again. Especially with children present? I'm surprised we aren't shackled and blinded like the last time," he scowled.

The man took a step back. "Take the kids in the back room," he ordered.

"Why doesn't everybody _calm down?_" Bloom demanded. "Put her down," he ordered Suresh. "_Please_." He glanced to the security team. "You stand down. He's right, do you really want to injure your assets before you get to wherever you're going?" He surprised himself by his response, especially referring to these people as 'assets'.

Two of the guards turned their weapons on Bloom in response.

Before anyone could do anything, the PA clicked on. "This is the captain speaking, we are cleared and ready for take off whenever you are." The order was obvious that he had an idea what was going on in the main cabin.

Suresh dropped Audrey. "You better pray that Matthew is alright when we land, or there will be hell to pay."

"Tell that to the Director," she countered. "After all, he's Matt's father."

Mohinder's eyes widened and he glanced to the frightened Molly.

"Everybody strap in," Bahn spoke up. "This is going to be one bumpy ride."

Mohinder glared at him. "I'm going to sit with Hiro. Molly, Sanjog, come along, children." The boy got up and helped the still crying girl past the guards into a room down the hall with Mohinder.

* * *

><p>Barbara ordered the children back to their rooms, making their watchers double check they were locked in once more before Joshua had her assembling the trio in the kitchen.<p>

"Margaret, Colleen, Ralph, we are very disappointed in you," he began. "We asked you to do one thing while we were gone: Keep the children safe. We found them outside, having just gotten out and running around with the baby in tow! What do you have to say for yourselves?"

Ralph stepped forward. "We apologize, Reverend. We shall take better care of these wayward foster children in the future."

Joshua glared at him, then his wife and daughter. The trio hung their heads in shame, blissfully unaware that the kids had been kidnapped, and most still had families anxious for their return.

"See that it never happens again!" he declared, slamming his palm down on the table.

"Hello? What's going on out there?" came an elderly voice from the bedroom in the main level.

Joshua gave his wife a withering stare. "Make sure they know their roles," he growled as he brushed past her. He went to the bedroom door and unlatched it. "Did you need something, old man?" he inquired softly as he entered.

"I heard a ruckus," the old man coughed. He took a pull on the oxygen mask attached to his wheelchair. "Do we have more company?" he asked, glancing up and licking his lips.

"No, merely the children becoming restless," Joshua assured him as he went to the dresser full of medication. Selecting the one that would keep him quiet, he emptied a pair of pills into his hand. "Here, these should help you rest." He offered them with a glass of water.

"I don't need my rest, I need...I need-" his voice trailed off again. "I can't remember?"

"Everything is fine," Joshua assured him. "Now take your pills, Sam. There's a good boy," he cooed as the old man choked them down with the water.

Joshua started to leave, pausing only to see the old man fumble with his oxygen mask again and stare out the window once more. He locked the door behind him.

Once he was alone, the old man glanced behind him and saw the stuffed rabbit on his bed. "I know you," he mumbled, looking around the room until his eyes fell on a painting of an angel on the wall looking down on him. "Gabriel? Yes, Gabriel," he muttered. "Where's my Gabriel?" Samson Gray wondered as he dozed off once more.

Joshua returned to his office. There was a man waiting for him behind his desk. The tanned skin and stark white hair adding to the stern look of his face.

"Oh, hello, Joshua," he smiled pleasantly as he turned away from the news on the computer screen. "I was just catching up on the day's events."

Carpenter wasn't fooled. He knew better than to ask how the man had gotten in the house, much less his locked office. Still, he knelt on one knee as a show of deference. "What is it you require of me, my lord?"

Tim Petrelli rolled his eyes at this, then leaned forward. "It is beginning."

* * *

><p>To Be Continued...<p> 


	12. Ch11 Sins Passed

HEROES - Volume 6: Brave New World

Chapter 11: Sins Passed

Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable characters, just playing with Tim Kring's toys.

A/N - show canon; GN semi-canon/references. A couple OCs.

* * *

><p>"I know you're awake, boy."<p>

Matt had been aware for several minutes, listening as he gathered his wits. He could hear the beeps of several heart monitors, so he knew he wasn't alone. He had cautiously let his mind feel who was near him. Two, three dormant minds at least. He felt another presence brush against his moments before he heard his father's voice.

"Where am I?" he finally asked, trying to sit up. He opened his eyes only to find he was restrained once more. He glanced around to see his father standing by the window, reading a file. Three other hospital beds took up the room, bearing Peter, Hiro, and Sylar. He frowned at this last one.

"You're still on Helix Base, medical wing infirmary," Maury answered him, closing the file and setting it on the tray table. He stood at the foot of Matt's bed, looking down on his son. "We've had a few new arrivals since you tried to stir up some trouble yesterday."

"Yesterday?" Matt repeated, incredulous. He was tempted to laugh. He had no idea how long he had been kept down in the cell, much less what day of the week it was now. "How long are you going to keep us here? What about the others you've kidnapped?"

"I had to force you and Gray to sleep," he admitted. "Petrelli and Nakamura, however, are actually in need of medical treatment."

"What did you do to them?" he accused.

"Nothing, Matt," he replied. "Nakamura's been sick for a while. You can ask Bennet about that. His power has been messing him up, physically. He already had a brain tumor removed, then proceeded to do foolish things immediately after, like move that carnival out of Central Park."

Matt grimaced at this news. He remembered the constant headaches he had suffered when his ability first manifested. He had downed aspirin like candy for several months until he was shot by Sylar at Kirby Plaza. Something happened to him during his recovery from that that weakened the strain of using his ability, strengthened it. If Hiro had a brain tumor, then-? "Do we have anything to worry about?"

"Not unless you force your mind onto someone," Maury cautioned. "Sometimes feedback is a bitch. I had a few close calls before I made the connection, and even then-" His voice trailed off, obviously remembering something he wasn't proud of.

"What about Peter?"

Maury shrugged. "No sooner had I knocked you out than Petrelli came crashing down. I can show you the crater if you like."

"And Sylar?" He didn't hide his disgust.

"_Gabriel_," his father corrected. "He said he came here looking for you. Unfortunately, one of my officers here has a, shall we say, personal grudge against him. I had hoped to keep them away from each other until you broadcast your shared memories of him.

"Let me guess, Sylar killed someone close to him?" Matt refused to use the man's real name. Not after all the damage and pain he had caused. "How are you keeping him sedated?" he asked, the implication of mental commands were clear. Matt knew there were other ways he could be kept subdued, as he had tried them, himself.

"I told him to sleep, like I did you," Maury admitted. "We also have certain sedatives we use."

"Yeah, I remember," Matt snapped, remembering the previous attempt to round up people like themselves, headed by Peter's late brother, Senator Nathan Petrelli, until he and Bennet lost control of the operation. "I don't suppose Danko is running things here?"

"Emile Danko? No. That man will not be a problem to us, not anymore."

"Do I want to know?"

"We aren't the only faction out there, Matt."

"What are you talking about?"

Maury tapped the folder he had been reading. "The Russians went public with their own team yesterday, while you and Gabriel were causing trouble. China went public this morning. Others are going public every hour, good and bad. Everybody's scrambling," he explained. "On top of that, I've got news reports from all over the US. Some sort of alligator man terrorizing beaches in northern Florida. Someone people are calling a 'Bigfoot' robbing a bank in Chicago, only to be stopped by a trio in costumes. An electrokinetic involved in a gang fight back on your turf in LA, killing one of your former co-workers. A banshee deafening everyone in a bank hold up in Phoenix. Two kids playing airborne tag around the St Louis Arch and catching pop flies in Busch Stadium in the middle of a Cards-Giants game. Sudden mystery weather in western Kansas." He gave a heavy sigh. "This is just what we've been able to confirm in the last twenty-odd hours since Russia went public. Matt, this is what we've been trying to keep under wraps for decades. This is what we're doing here, making a police force to take care of our own."

"We really are the new weapons of mass destruction, aren't we?" he sighed. "Living weapons. Do we at least have the NRA on our side?"

"There's nothing new about us, Matt," he replied. "Angela, Charles, Danny, Kaito, and I, the rest of our group, we weren't the first generation by a long shot. Ask Kaito's boy, Hiro, he knew Adam Monroe four hundred years ago in Japan. Adam wasn't the first, either."

Matt gave his father a confused look. "What are you implying?"

Maury tapped the folder again. "We found those files when we let your guard out of your cell. Sally admitted to giving them to you. Did you read them all?"

Matt gave him a dirty look. "You already know the answer to that."

"A sampling. There are more with what some would consider minor abilities: the ability to change the color of her hair at a moment's notice; a little old lady being lucky at bingo when she needs to do her hair, or catching all the green lights when she's running late; adaptive breathing, from gills for water to poisonous gasses; forgery, absorbing the written word from one place and placing it elsewhere; post-coital gender transformation. You wouldn't believe the therapy that one goes through. He's let people think he ran off and is playing the part of his wife's twin sister." He saw his son roll his eyes at this last. Whether it was in disbelief or the absurdity, Maury didn't care to question.

He leaned forward, his voice dropping. "Then there are the ones people are right to fear, Matt. Your nuclear friend, Sprague. The handful with elemental control like Angela's weather controlling sister to a hydro- or criokinetic like Tracy Strauss and a long list of pyrokinetics." He nodded to the bed across the room. "Power thieves like Gray there and Arthur Petrelli. Shapeshifters like Gray and Peter can do now. Even telepaths like us, Matthew. People are scared of their secrets being exposed, of questioning if we have changed their minds on matters small to world changing. They fear us the most. That's why we have to police our own."

"What if we don't want to police ourselves? What if we want to live quiet lives? I was out of this nonsense. I had my family." He closed his eyes as his fists clenched in anger. "Had."

"Matt, why did you join the force?" he asked. Matt turned away, unwilling to answer. "To make a difference, wasn't it? To put bastards like me behind bars where we belong? Don't lie to me, son. I know the real reasons you joined, but you didn't know mine for leaving you behind. I left you and your mother to keep you away from all this, Matt. I hoped..._prayed_ you wouldn't be like me. That you could live a nice, peaceful life and never have anything like this to even cross your mind. I was wrong. And for that I am sorry, Matthew."

"It's way too late for that, old man," Matt growled, pulling at his restraints.

Maury stepped back and started to turn away before stopping. "Don't go anywhere just yet," he said and snapped his fingers. Matt felt his restraints give way and realized they had been illusions all along. "You might not want to run away until you get your legs back, by the way," he added before leaving the room, closing the door behind him.

Matt sat up and looked around the room. Peter, Hiro, and Sylar were still there, their monitors beeping. He started to get out of bed, but realized his father was right when his legs started to give way when he tried to stand. They apparently didn't have a healer on staff for his twisted ankle. He stumbled to Hiro's bed next to his and grabbed the chart. It was all gibberish to him, but he could understand that he was under some stronger medications. Sensors attached to his head and Peter's as well indicated they were monitoring their brainwaves as well, he realized. Sylar only had the basics, as he had worn.

He stumbled across to Peter, slowly regaining his ability to walk. "Peter? Pete? You in there?" he asked softly, now conscious of waking Sylar and knowing he was in no condition to defend himself, much less Peter and Hiro. He pressed again, "_Peter? Peter, wake up_," he urged. "_I need your help, here, Pete."_

No response.

Matt grimaced and sat in the chair between Peter's bed and the window, then glanced across to Hiro. How were they going to get out of this when none of them were in any shape to fight their way out?

He looked out the window and saw the base laid out around them. Three people were flying through raised hoops as if in that boy wizard movie. Another man was creating poles for them to maneuver through. A fifth man was being supervised trying to stack small crates by telekinesis and looked extremely stressed over it to the point of exhaustion as he clutched his head with one hand and the other was visibly shaking even from Matt's distant point of view. Others were doing basic army training maneuvers, so he guessed these had abilities that weren't obvious, or they were the regular folk that made up the "one of us, one of them" pairings. He recognized only a few of these people from the files Sally Schroeder had left him.

A sudden gasp caught his attention, but when he looked back at Peter, there was no indication he had woken. Matt felt his stomach tighten as the man on the other side of Peter slowly sat up.

"Hello?" Gabriel Gray asked, taking stock of where he was and who else was in the room. "Is anyone...oh, hello, Matt. What did I miss?"

Matt gulped hard.

* * *

><p>"Reverend, can I see you a moment?" Tim Petrelli asked, his velvet smooth voice surprising his associate in his home once again.<p>

Joshua Carpenter looked up from the rough draft of his Sunday sermon on his desk to see the well dressed man with the bronzed skin and snow white buzz cut standing over him. "Of course, sir," he said rising to follow the man outside. "The children are behaving now. No more attempts at break outs or hints of escape. Barbara says she's been reading their recent memories to see if they're hiding anything from us, like another attempt."

"Hmm, that's nice," the older man barely acknowledged as he led the way out the back door to the picnic table outside the house. Carpenter was taken aback by the size of the man sitting on the table. He guessed the man had to weigh in excess of five, possibly six, hundred pounds. He gave out a slight whimper as the man turned at their approach and the shift in weight brought the formerly sturdy table down. The man blinked in astonishment that he was now sitting on the ground.

"No, don't get up on our account," Tim told him. "Reverend Carpenter, this is my new friend Bradley. Say hello, Bradley."

"hewwo," the large man echoed. He seemed to be out of sorts, as if he wasn't fully aware of his surroundings.

"Is he, er, a simpleton?" Carpenter inquired, trying to be delicate and not use the r-word.

"Far from it, but he has been living on the streets for quite some time," Tim explained. "I admit we did lose track of him briefly, isn't that right, Bradley?"

"hewwo," he repeated. He then let rip an obnoxious fart, adding to the stench of drink and squalor he was already giving off.

Tim raised an eyebrow. "Alright, so he's not in complete control of his faculties, but he will still be useful to our cause."

Joshua pulled Petrelli back a step. "Listen, children are one thing, but even I have my limits! I doubt this man knows what day it is, or even his full name if you hadn't told it to him!"

Tim smirked. "His name is Bradley Green, and, if circumstances had been more favorable to him, he would be the godfather of the Parkman child upstairs."

"What?" he hissed in confusion.

"Bradley here is a childhood friend and neighbor to one Matthew Parkman, Sr. He also has an ability of which I have need of."

"You're going to make Barbara control him like some puppet, is that it?"

"Quite the contrary, Joshua," he replied, then motioned to someone behind Carpenter. "Why do you think I had you watching Mr. Gray? He's the one who will be controlling Bradley."

Joshua turned to see his farmhand Ralph O'Brien pushing the wheelchair bound Samson Gray toward them. "What are you-?"

"Thank you, Ralph, we can take it from here," he said, stepping behind the chair.

"wher'my?" Samson mumbled.

"Among friends," Tim assured him. "I'd like you to meet my friend Bradley. I do hope you two will get along in there."

Joshua grabbed Tim's arm as he began removing Samson's oxygen line. "What are you doing?"

"Step back, Joshua," he calmly warned, pulling up Samson by his arm. The frail man didn't struggle, but had to be held up as Tim brought him closer to the obese man. He turned Samson to face him a moment as the older man seemed to have a moment of clarity.

"yewh?" he rasped.

"Yes, me. Hello, old friend," Tim smiled, then shoved the dying man into the obese one. Literally.

Joshua looked on in shock as Bradley seemed to absorb the frail form of Samson Gray. Bradley seemed confused for a long moment. Then he began to focus on his surroundings.

"Tim?"

"Hello Samson."

Bradley looked down at his thick hands as if seeing them for the first time. "What did you do to me?"

"I believe the Company files call it 'body insertion', but that phrase always brings up rude jokes, don't you think?" he smirked.

"I feel like I'm swimming in mud?"

"I expected there to be a period of adjustment, especially as I'm just borrowing the ability for the moment," he explained. "Can you access your other abilities yet?"

"It looks like I'll need my teke for simple movement?" Samson said, giving a soft chuckle that turned into a whooping cough. When he regained his composure, he shook his head. "Looks like I still have the cancer?"

"Concentrate on Bradley's body," Tim suggested. "I hear my nephew Peter used this ability on his own younger self (time travel, it's always a headache), but neither bothered to understand the power, that two Specials could be merged and retain both original abilities."

Joshua watched Samson-Bradley as he seemed to concentrate a moment. "Impetuous just like his father, then? Your brother Arthur was bad for consuming power and not caring about the consequences, too. And they called us monsters. Heh." As he talked, Samson's voice grew stronger and his body seemed to shudder and shake. "What was his power? Bradley?"

"Something to do with consumption and mass?" Tim replied. "He can eat anything and has some control over his personal gravity, the unstoppable force versus immovable mass and all that. It also gives him a bit of strength."

Samson rolled his new body around and eyed the broken table. "Let's put this to the test, shall we?" He picked up a broken piece of wood and took a small bite over Joshua's protestations. He chewed, swallowed, then glanced up to Tim. "The body needs more fiber," he smiled. "And a shower."

"Joshua, be a good man and get the hose, would you?" he asked, before glancing up.

Watching from the window above, Micah Sanders fell back from the window and gave a slight shudder at this turn of events.

* * *

><p><strong>Chicago<strong>

The young woman who answered the door reminded him a bit of his daughter. "Mary Burchett?"

"Who wants to know?" she snarled. She had obviously just woken up and wasn't happy about it.

He flashed his new federal ID and saw her size him up, as if readying for a fight. "My name is Noah Bennet, I'm here to ask you a few questions about a bank robbery?"

"I haven't robbed any banks," she declared.

"No you haven't," he agreed. "You did, however, help stop one. Who were the other two you were with, Ms. Burchett?"

She tried to close the door on him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"The two men you were with. Hard to miss in those costumes. You do know there are new laws going into effect about vigilantes, especially those wearing costumes, don't you?" He pulled a photo pulled from the bank security cam from the folder he was carrying.

She tried to remain cool, but he saw the faint tic in her eyes at the photo, then a slight red flush on her cheeks.

"That's not me," she denied.

He handed her another sheet of paper. "Ms. Burchett, we've been keeping tabs on you for quite a while. You're not in trouble. Not yet, anyway. We just can't condone loose vigilantes, even if they are assisting the police in cases like this."

Mary looked over the sheet of paper, practically a résumé of her entire life, boiled down to a handful of photographs and "Is this a medical chart of some sort?"

"Of some sort," he echoed. "I'm here to ask you to work with us, as well as find out who your associates are."

She crumpled the sheet in one hand. "I told you, I don't know what you're talking about, but you just bought yourself a heap of trouble."

The next thing he knew, Noah found himself pinned against the wall opposite her apartment door by the young woman.

"I'd put him down if I were you, miss," came a voice next to her.

In one swift move, she dropped Bennet and kicked out to her side at the voice. The man that had been standing there disappeared. She thought he moved back about ten feet, but then his voice came from behind her. She spun around to see two more men identical to the first standing there casually.

"Yep, this is the lady I saw the other night on the rooftop," Eli Polsky told Bennet, who was trying to recompose himself after being accosted.

"You're positive?"

"Yep, acted like your gun nut's bullets didn't even bother her, then the other two showed up. They talked a minute, then thought they were outnumbered and took off." He seemed proud of deceiving her.

"Who are you people?" she asked.

"Hopefully, friends," Noah told her. "Now, can we continue our discussion like reasonable adults inside or do you want to come along with us?"

Mary realized she was outnumbered. "I guess," she harrumphed and walked back into her apartment, Bennet and Polsky following. "Excuse me a minute, I need to use the bathroom."

The two men shared a look. Eli nodded.

In her bathroom, she opened the window and stuck her head out.

"Hi there."

She saw the man had another double on her fire escape. "Pervert." She slammed the window shut. Returning to the main room, she found Bennet holding up the duffel and pulling out the outfit her two friends had given her. "What are you doing?" she accused.

"Certainly not planting evidence of a costume which the bank cameras already have you wearing." He looked at it again. "Red and black leather?"

"They already had it. I didn't ask why," she informed him, dropping onto her couch beside a bemused Polski. "No, I still don't know their names."

"But you are meeting them again?" Bennet asked.

Her glare at Bennet made Eli slide away from her.

* * *

><p><strong>Helix Base, formerly Fort Pickett, in Georgia<strong>

What do you think, doctor?" Maury inquired of his newest associate.

Mohinder Suresh flipped the page on the test results. "I see no correlation here between the two incidents."

"Is that your opinion as a geneticist?"

"Mr. Parkman, you and your Company have been studying your kind far longer than I or my father ever did," he countered. "You would be the better judge of what to expect. My father's research had barely scratched the surface compared to your resources." This last was said with a hint of contempt and the added mental note of _I know what your people did to him._

Maury glanced down at the slumbering Dan Walters. "You know full well that merely testing positive for certain genetic markers does not mean you know what to expect at the end of the day, Suresh. He fully admitted his ability to shrink, but the rage induced growth seemed to take him unawares. Is his ability is emotional induced size change?"

"I only have your reports to go on, not a firsthand visual record of it happening like you."

"His daughter claims to have seen one instance of shrinking, but is unaware of what brought it on," he replied. "He admitted to her he knew of two other semi-recent instances prior to their reunion. It seems he was completely unaware of her existence for many years, and they only recently reunited once she was allowed to contact her birth parents after coming of age. We've been unable to activate either's ability in testing prior to yesterday's rampage against Luke Campbell and Gabriel Gray. Even then, he was acting on his own in defense of the others he was with, including his daughter."

"Is she still outside with Molly and Sanjog?"

Maury glanced toward the door. "Yes. Would you like her to join us?"

"I do have a few questions, yes."

"Violet, could you join us, please?" Maury called out.

A young woman entered the room and glanced to her father. "Is my dad okay?"

"We believe he may have suffered a slight myocardial infarction," Mohinder informed her. "It was likely brought on by the sudden stress of his, um, his size enlargement. However, even the wounds I'm told he suffered from yesterday's incident seem to have healed, already."

She gave him a blank look. "My-o-what in-fractions?"

"A minor heart attack," Maury clarified. "You said his doctor gave him a prescription before?"

She nodded. "We told him he was having panic attacks, but not- well, who would believe us he could do that, _shrink_? Especially someone as big as he was?"

Mohinder gave her a soft smile. "I understand why you lied to his doctor, but we need full disclosure here." He showed her what was written on the chart. "Is this the drug your father was prescribed?"

"I think so? The doctor seemed to buy that it was stress over finding me and becoming a father after all these years," she informed them. "I think he already knew about dad before-?"

"Well, yes, if it was already your father's primary care physician?" Mohinder nodded.

Maury sensed her concern. "What did you mean by that?"

She seemed hesitant. "Well, he told me my mom, birth mom, that is, she was his only girlfriend. He never mentioned seeing any other women?"

A look of understanding passed between the two men. "I don't see why that should be a factor," Mohinder informed her. "We can always ask him later for, uh, other details. Once he wakes up, that is."

"So he's going to be fine?"

"I'd let him rest another day or two, but I don't see anything else to worry about," he replied.

"Thank you," she said and gave him a brief hug.

"You, uh, you haven't experienced anything unusual, have you?" Maury inquired.

"No, sir, nothing."

Maury gave her a light scan and saw she was telling the truth. "Very well, then, we'll give you some time alone with your father then. Don't be afraid to call the nurses if there's any change," he told her. "Suresh?" he nodded toward the door.

Mohinder thanked her for her patience and followed his friend's father out the door to see his two charges waiting on a bench in the hall. Molly gave a slight flinch on seeing the other man.

"I've seen your patient, now let us see Matthew. Please."

"Fine," he harrumphed. "I'd be surprised if she isn't waiting to bolt to his bedside right this second, anyway."

She scowled at him, then suddenly looked surprised.

Mohinder caught her reaction. "Molly? What's wrong?"

"Matt's in trouble!" she exclaimed and looked directly at his room, one floor above and down the hall.

"You kids stay here!" Maury ordered and began running, Mohinder at his heels.

"I don't know what game you're playing, Maury, but-"

"Bite me! Matt's still my son!" he hissed as they ran up the stairs to the floor. They stumbled over each other out of the stairwell into the hall only to see Gabriel Gray fly out of the room he had shared with the other three injured men. A moment later, Matt appeared, barely holding himself up in the doorway.

"Stay the hell away from me and my friends!"

"Matt, calm down!" Maury yelled at him.

The younger Parkman glared at his father. "That goes double for you, old man." He spared Mohinder a scowl before turning his attention back to Gray. He took a pained step forward.

Mohinder reached out to his friend. "Matthew, are you hurt? How did you-?"

Maury answered. "He got into Gray's head. Turned his telekinesis against him. Didn't you?"

Mohinder did a doubletake at the realization. "If he can do that, then-"

"Remember your bald friend, Bishop, dad? He once told me, I can control whatever the body controls. I realized a while back, after this bastard invaded my head, I realized that meant I could turn other people's abilities against them." He took another ginger step forward, fully realizing Gray could easily see he was hurting and could take advantage of his weakness at any time. "Telekinesis. I read up on that one. Mind over matter. No matter how big. Or small."

Gray made a choking sound and grabbed his head.

"Blood vessels, for instance. Shut down the brain, shut down your opponent with little effort."

"Matt, stop this!" Maury urged.

Matt's voice was calm, but sent chills down the spines of his father and friend. "No."

"Matthew, don't stoop to his level!" Mohinder exclaimed. "You're better than this!"

"My wife is dead. My son is missing. I've been arrested and accused of killing them both. Exposed as the freaks we are. Called a terrorist. Imprisoned for 'my own safety'. My days are numbered, according to that witch Angela." He slowly turned his head toward Maury and Mohinder. "Now you show up, working with my father. Tell me why I should care, anymore."

"Because we still care about you, Matthew."

Maury pointed to the limp Gray. "He said he came here looking to help you find your boy, son."

"That man is a serial killer who already threatened my family. He's a stone cold killer. He needs to be put down. If you won't, then it falls to someone who will. Me."

"_Go back to your bed, son_," Maury pushed.

"_NO._ No, dad. You don't get to tell me what to do. Not since you walked out on mom and me."

Father and son glared at each other, seething. Mohinder finally took a step forward. "Matthew, please calm down."

"Get away, Mohinder. Get Molly and get out of here while you can," he warned. "For her sake if not ours. There's been enough innocent blood spilled and I don't want her near this...this fiasco."

Mohinder grabbed his arm and gave him a firm squeeze. Matt tried not to wince at the man's enhanced strength. "I will force you back into the room if I have to, Matthew."

"Get her away from here, Mohinder. If you ever gave a damn about her, or me, get her away."

"You're injured, you're angry, the last few weeks have been hell for you. Let me take care of you."

"Then get us all away from here."

"You sound like a broken record. 'Get away from me.' 'I need to find my son.' Grow up, boy."

Before Matt could retort, Mohinder pushed him back into the room he had thrown Gray out of. He resisted at first, but knew his friend meant well and sat back down on his bed.

"Just breathe, Matthew," he urged. He glanced over to Hiro and Peter in the other beds. Matt didn't have to notice.

"Dad said Pete crashed here yesterday. I'm not sure what's up with Hiro, brain...something, a tumor?"

"Possibly. Ando told me he's had trouble for a while, now. He had one brain tumor removed, but he refuses to stop," he admitted. "He teleported to the apartment we were staying at, but I think he began to collapse before the Company guards who had already shown up to collect us could tranquilize him."

"Poor kid. His dad was murdered, Peter's dad mind wiped him, now brain tumors?" He watched Maury checking Gray across the hall. "Did he tell you about any others whose powers killed them? I mean, I get Ted giving his wife cancer, but you'd think we would have a basic immunity to our own, you know, stuff?"

Mohinder was distracted from reading Peter's chart. "I'm sorry? Ted?"

"Nuclear powers, that's who Sylar killed after Peter copied his power and they nearly nuked New York with it that night at Kirby," he explained as Maury turned and glared at him. "What do you want old man?" Matt dared him.

"You locked him in his head again, didn't you?"

Matt scowled. "He's a rabid animal. Someone had to do something." He held up his hand as if he was holding his gun at the pair in the hall and dropped his finger. "Old Yeller. I know you've seen it. Only difference is, we liked the dog."

Maury was about to say something, but looked down the hall at someone else. "Help me get Gray to another room. I'll wake him up later." Matt saw four men, two soldiers and two others, one a heavy bald man who looked vaguely familiar, somehow, pull Sylar up and carry him down the hall. The bald man paused only to give Maury a hand standing up before tossing Matt a glance and following the others. Maury entered the room, ignoring Matt as he went to Mohinder's side. "He crashed here yesterday. You saw the crater?" Mohinder nodded. "I did a light probe, but only picked up a few scattered memories. Bennet sent him to see someone in England, which is where the memories get sketchy."

"Do you know who he saw?" Suresh inquired. "Could they have done this to him?"

Maury found this funny, letting out a slight chuckle and confusing the doctor. "Yeah, Bennet told me who he sent Peter to, and no, I don't think he would be able to injure Peter in any way. What few impressions I did get, he seemed to be fond of the, uh, man in question."

"So this was someone Peter already knew? Perhaps he could offer some insight to Peter's condition?"

"He's a hard man to get hold of," Maury admitted. "I can only assume Peter had copied young Miss Walker's ability to-"

"You leave her out of this!" Matt warned.

Maury turned to face his son. "I was only suggesting that Peter used her previously copied ability to find his quarry in England. Nothing more."

Matt glowered from his bed.

"Is there much mental activity?" Mohinder asked to distract the pair. "Does he dream?"

"What did you have in mind, Suresh?"

"The young gentleman with me, Sanjog, he can enter dreams, make you understand a situation from a different point of view," he explained.

"No. No kids," Matt warned. "I won't have it."

"If he can do this, I'll work with him," Maury said. "Let's go talk to him." he motioned Mohinder towards the door. Suresh paused only to give Matt a pleading look before he exited. Maury's look to his son was as cool as the one Matt gave him.

"Don't do this."

"Matt, I've made so many hard choices in my life, it's almost hard to care any more," he admitted. The implications behind their strained relationship were left unspoken. "I _have_ to think big picture, son. I can't expect you to understand what I've had to do, good or bad."

"Get out."

Maury sighed and took his leave. Matt looked over to his two unconscious companions. "I could really use some help, here, guys," he told them.

Downstairs, Mohinder and Maury approached the children. Molly was visibly upset. "What happened?" Mohinder inquired.

"I'm not sure," Sanjog replied. "Some soldiers brought a man through, and she became near hysterical?"

"Dammit. I'll be right back," Maury sighed, not even stopping.

"I'm sorry, sweetie, we didn't realize they would bring him down this hall," Mohinder consoled her. "If it makes you feel any better, Matthew is the one who, um, knocked him out."

This got a smirk out of her. "Can we go see Matt now?"

Mohinder hesitated and glanced to Sanjog. "Actually, we came to see if Sanjog here could help us wake Peter up?" Her smile drooped. "I-I'm sure Matt won't mind a little company while we help Peter, if you're quiet?"

"Yes! Thank you, Appa!" she squealed, hugging him.

When she settled down, he turned to the boy. "Can you help us, Sanjog?"

"I will do what I can," he said simply.

"Alright then, shall we?" he asked, standing up and offering his hands to the pair.

Upstairs, Matt had moved back by the window, watching the various training exercises below. "Is this what Nathan really wanted to do, Pete? Did he tell you that? Secretly train us into a police force, an army? Or were we really just going to be locked up, away from our families, simply for being 'different'?"

He turned away from the window and sat beside his friend again. He knew what he had to do. Grabbing Peter's hand in his and placing his other along the side of his head, he concentrated. "Talk to me, Peter. Help me."

The next thing he knew, he was in a strange house. He was standing on a balcony, looking down on a throng of people below. Many were familiar faces. Some were dead. Most notably, Matt recognized Ted Sprague and Nathan Petrelli.

And himself.

"What are you doing here, Matt?"

Matt turned to see a man approach. It had been Peter's voice, but the person approaching was a patchwork of the crowd below, constantly shifting.

"P-Pete? Peter, is that you?"

"I honestly don't know anymore, Matt," he replied then cocked his head strangely. "What's that on your back?"

Matt looked over his shoulder, but he couldn't see anything. Then he realized, it wasn't that he couldn't see it, whatever _it_ was, it wasn't allowing him to see what it was. There was a slight distortion right behind him, as if his own shadow was hiding from him.

He saw a mirror at the end of the balcony. He wanted to scream. Attached, no, _fused_ to his back was Sylar.

Elsewhere at Helix Base, a plaintive voice called out from a cell. "Hello? Is anyone out there?"

"Shut up, Claire!"

"You shut up, Lyle! When dad gets here, you're in deep shit!"

"Shut the fuck up, Claire!"

* * *

><p>TBC...<p> 


	13. Ch12 Orenda

HEROES - Volume 6: Brave New World

Chapter 12: Orenda

Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable characters, just playing with Tim Kring's toys.

A/N - show canon; GN semi-canon/references. A couple OCs.

* * *

><p><strong>Chicago, IL<strong>

"Night Raptor and Upstart?"

"Yes, sir," the man in dark brown replied. His partner stayed silent, studying the seven men that accompanied Mary Burchett to their evening rendezvous.

"Which one of you decided that running around as costumed vigilantes was a bright idea?" Noah Bennet inquired.

The man who was obviously Night Raptor glanced to his blond cohort, who stood stoically. Mary rolled her eyes.

"Well, I guess that answers that question," Noah mused.

"While it was my idea to do something useful with our abilities, it was my partner's idea for costumes," Upstart finally replied. "I also realize that your partner is a multiplier. Is there a limit to your doppelgangers, or is six the limit?" he inquired.

"I've plenty enough to take you two on," Eli snorted. Bennet gave him a disproving look.

"Relax gentlemen, I'm only here as a courtesy before, let's say, other agencies decide to take advantage of you," Noah informed them. "Night Raptor, you're simply a flier, or is there more to that? And I'm still unsure of your ability, Upstart."

"Enhanced senses, and I seem to have gotten stronger lately, as well," he offered. "I'm a comic collector, so I knew many code names were already taken, especially if they started Hawk or Bat, even Owl, so-" He motioned to his costume.

"I see," he noted while eyeing Upstart, who he noticed gave a slight snort of derision at the other man's usage of comic _collector_. "I take it your abilities are more mental oriented?" The man's demeanor reminded Noah of Sylar, only more pleasant.

"An acute observation," he replied. "I take it you've been assessing and profiling those in the current popular talk known as 'Specials' such as us for a long time?" Noah gave a curt nod. "Very well. I noticed an increase in my intellect and observational skills from a young age, far above my parents' average intellect. Therefore, I deemed it appropriate that I took a more modest route in my schooling, maintaining a B+ average, so as not to play my hand too often if caught in the rare slip of extraneous knowledge far above my suggested level. At home, I regularly perused literature and knowledge usually thought of as reserved for the intellectual elite, and built my own computer from spare parts that would still be envied for power and capacity today, and perhaps even, ten years from now. I did resist taking up this costumed venture," he boasted, then glanced to his partner in annoyance, adding "as well as take up a moniker relating in any way to a certain popular fictional master detective."

Noah knew what this implied. The man had an ability similar to Gabriel Gray's base of intuitive intellect. The potential of unleashing a similar being could be damaging to the Company's current efforts at a peaceful representation. "I don't suppose either of you would like to partake in our enterprise?" he suggested. "We've operated undercover for decades, mostly cataloguing abilities and their potential. Those who posed no threat and wished to live without their burden, we left alone and occasionally offered assistance in keeping their abilities in check. Some were offered a position within our employ. A few, not many, but a few, we had to be proactive with, those possessing a more volatile ability, or, if the situation called for it, the rare occasion of incarceration or, well, a more corporal punishment."

"_Super-villains!?_"Night Raptor blurted out. Upstart rolled his eyes. "Sorry, but I would think that most people would fall into the 'hiding what they are' category, but I guess the odds are that there would be a few bad apples out there, huh?"

Noah sighed at his exuberance. "Yes, for lack of a better term. My associate here worked for a group posing as a traveling carnival for quite some time. We were aware of them, but as they posed no danger, we allowed them to conduct themselves as entertainers. They've recently decided to settle as a private community, and a few have decided to work with us, while a few people I've worked with decided to partake of their quieter way of life."

Eli didn't say anything, but Upstart could tell he wasn't exactly happy with Bennet sharing this information.

"At the very least, lady and gentlemen, we would like to offer you a full examination of your abilities, as well as an informal working agreement," he continued. "What do you say?"

Mary sighed. "Are we actually being given a choice here?"

Noah seemed surprised. "Of course, why wouldn't we give you a choice?"

Upstart spoke up. "You just admitted to incarcerating and worse to those who didn't toe the line, as it were. Plus, there have been reports of numerous abductions and disappearances the last few weeks, suggesting someone is marshalling those with abilities, from children to senior citizens. What do you have to say to that?"

Bennet grimaced. "What do you base this on?"

"Various news reports, the least of which, is the fact you made an appearance on the talk show known as _ANDY_ with one Matt Parkman, former LAPD officer and NYPD detective, who was recently believed deceased in Odessa, Texas. Mr. Parkman famously left that appearance with Peter Petrelli, only to stand accused of the murder of his wife and possible murder of his young son, as well as accusations of treason, in his home state of California. All this before he was promptly taken into alleged 'government custody' and one of the officers involved in his arrest suddenly goes AWOL as well."

Noah remained stoic. "Yes, I was with Mr. Parkman prior to the unfortunate circumstances that happened to his family, and yes, our organization did remove him from police custody for his own safety when the accusations of terrorism arose. Any more than that, I cannot say."

"So you admit to having alleged killers and potential traitors to national security in this organization of yours?" Upstart accused.

"Dude, chill!" Raptor warned.

"Mr. Parkman's alleged accusations are far from a cut and dry, black and white situation," Bennet argued. "As you can surely attest, acting on your own cognizance, in disguise, and without concern to the matter of how your intentions are being carried out or perceived by the media."

Upstart was silent for a minute. "Touché." He extended his hand. "We'll give you a chance to prove yourselves, Mr. Bennet."

"Are you all in agreement on this?"

"What the hell, it can't be any worse than growing up an army brat," Mary acknowledged. "And it's not like I was doing anything else."

Night Raptor flung his arm around Upstart. "Where he goes, I go," he beamed. "I, uh, I just need to make a few calls, first.

Noah gave a slight smirk. "Excellent. Glad to have you with us rather than against us," he said, taking the man's hand. "Just one more thing: what happened to the man you three stopped from robbing that bank?"

Mary dropped her head into her hands. Night Raptor looked like he wished he was somewhere else. Upstart refused to give any sign of upset. "Ah, him," he mumbled.

* * *

><p><strong>Helix Base, inside the mind of Peter Petrelli <strong>

Inside Peter Petrelli's mindscape resembling his childhood home, Matt glared at the image of Sylar fused into his back. "He's still in my head, Peter!"

"Is he, Matt?" Peter inquired. His face distorted again into someone Matt didn't recognize. "I know I'm having trouble getting my house in order, it seems, but this is different from what I have going on."

"What do you mean?" he snapped. The image of Sylar seemed to grow angrier than Matt's reflection. "He's lodged himself in my head before. He must have done it again."

"Do you think so little of me, Matt?" the symbiotic asked his host. "The truth should be obvious to someone even as dull-witted and slow as you."

"Shut up!" he yelled. "Shut up and get the hell out of my life!"

"It goes deeper than that, Matt," he taunted. "I go deeper than that." He placed his hands over his throat and Matt started choking. He fell to his knees and felt the whisper in his ear as Sylar contorted from back to back to hugging Matt from behind.

"You know the truth, Matt. This isn't the first face I've worn, just the latest."

Peter watched on as Sylar seemed to grow heavier, forcing Matt down even more. Matt turned to face the mirror and saw his father was now holding him down, pressing his head to the floor.

"Admit it, Matt."

"No," he growled, shutting his eyes. "No!"

"Yes." the voice changed again and Matt opened his eyes to see his own angry double clutching him from behind. His torso seemed to pull away from Matt for a second, but it was only to grab Matt's head and force him to look upon the grotesquery in the mirror. "What do you see, you fat, stupid, worthless excuse for a man?"

Matt refused to accept what the symbiont was implying. "No! I'm not that! I'm not stupid! I'm not worthless!"

"You couldn't even commit suicide by cop properly, you idiot."

"I had to stop that bastard," he retorted. "Give up my life to stop that psycho freak? I'd do it again."

"It wasn't the first time you thought of it, was it, Matt?" it taunted. "You can't lie in here."

Matt's tone seemed defeated to Peter. "Leave me alone."

"You can't read. You were a lousy husband. When you found out you could read minds, what's the first thing you did? Used them to your advantage to get _laid_," the angry Matt accused. "You abused your ability to get criminals to confess. You stole a dead man's diamonds for personal gain."

"_Leave me alone!_" Matt screamed. "I tried! Okay? I tried!"

"You tried what, Matt?" it hissed. "You never abused your authority until your ability activated. Even then, you deemed what was a 'necessary evil' to protect yourself. What was once black and white, was now shades of gray," it accused. "You could have told Angela no. You could have let Nathan go, but you didn't. You helped her create a lie. You made a known serial killer impersonate a US Senator, Matt."

"NO!" Matt refused to accept what his dark symbiont was saying. There was one thing he could do, though. "Peter, get away from here! Get away from me!"

"No, Matt," the constantly changing Petrelli replied. "I know what my mother made you do. I know Sylar was made to think he was Nathan. I know." He knelt beside his friend. "I know, and I understand. I forgive you, Matt." He grabbed Matt's shoulder. "I forgive you."

"No, Peter, no," Matt muttered. "You can't. You can't forgive me, only Nathan can."

Peter concentrated a moment. "I do Matt. I forgive you for what my mother made you do."

Matt heard the change of voice and looked up. Nathan knelt beside him now. "I forgive you, Matt. You didn't kill me. You gave me a chance to repent."

Nathan's features slowly melted into Sylar. "If it weren't for you, Matt, I would still be out there killing people. Nathan, Ted, Mohinder, you, even sweet little Molly and Matthew."

"_NO_!" Matt screamed and launched himself at the image of his tormentor. "_Not my kids! Never again!_"

Sylar-Peter wrestled with Matt, allowing the larger man to pin him. He melted again, this time into Matt. "Release the anger, Matt. Accept it and release it."

Matt didn't seem to notice he was fighting himself. "I'll kill you! I'll kill you!" he screamed as he throttled his double.

Peter didn't think Matt could hurt him while trapped in his mind, but then he noticed the Petrelli mansion seemed to be fading in and out of existence. He had to try another tactic before Matt had even more guilt to wrestle with, literally.

"Matty, stop this nonsense!"

Matt froze and saw his face melt back into Peter's as a shadow rose over them. Matt looked up to see his father standing there. The mansion had faded into the Parkman's old apartment.

"I'm leaving, Matt. There's nothing you can do to stop me."

"_no_!" he choked out. "Not again."

"I don't care about you. You're a poor excuse for a son," Maury told him. "I'm leaving you and your mother for something better. Something you'll never have. A better life. A happy life. You disgust me, you illiterate little-"

"_NO!" _Matt screamed.

Peter saw he had somehow turned into a young teen, if that. He wondered if this really happened, or if it was some twisted memory of the day Maury Parkman left his family.

"NO! Please! Come back! Don't go! I'll be good! I will! I'll do anything you want, daddy! Don't leave!" he sobbed. "I'll learn to read right! I can do it! I can!"

"No, Matt," Maury said, turning away. "I have better, more important things to do. You can't be a part of that."

Maury dissolved through the door as young Matt charged it, throwing himself against it, beating his fists against the wood and bawling. "I'm sorry I'm so stupid! I'm sorry!" he sobbed. "All my fault! All my fault! I was too stupid to make you stay!"

Peter watched as the small apartment became smaller, darker. Young Matt seemed to be growing from a skinny teen into a brawny adult with a slight pudge, his clothes changing into his police uniform, the door into a police badge. "So stupid! So stupid!" he kept mumbling. His weight seemed to increase as well, ballooning into well over what Peter had seen him as. He pulled at his hair. The badge turned into a locker. Other shadows formed into a group around Matt. One stepped forward.

"Best lay I ever had. You don't even know I was banging your hot wife, you fat, ignorant pig." The other shadows were laughing. Peter saw some of them wore police uniforms in various states of dress and they were now in a locker room.

"No," Matt growled. "No." In an instant, Matt was on his feet, the other man was flying from Matt's blow. "Screw you, Tom? She would never let you touch her!" he spat back, kicking the other man in the gut repeatedly. Peter could swear a few of those kicks were below the belt.

Before Peter realized, the locker room dissolved as Matt fell back against a locker, tipping over on his back. Straps suddenly appeared from nowhere and held him down as his clothes dissolved. Distorted machines beeped in the distance as an overlarge large head wearing horn rimmed glasses leered down from nowhere. Noah Bennet rambled on in gibberish before another shadow appeared, a demonic look on his ebon face, and placed an oversized hand over Matt's face. It took Peter a second to realize this was supposed to be Rene, and this was when Noah abducted Matt to test his emerging powers.

"Not worth our time," Noah's voiced echoed from nowhere as the scene dissolved to black. Peter now found himself in a hallway, two women were talking in the distance, but he couldn't see them. A door opened and Matt ran through, gun drawn, followed by a familiar blond face and her shadow. Peter followed them into the other room and found himself in an Escher-esque maze of stairs. The voices of Niki Sanders echoed, arguing with herself.

Peter followed a commotion to another door, opening it, he saw Niki throw Matt out the window. Peter was caught in the moment and raced to help his friend before he realized he was being showered with broken glass. No, not glass, the ceiling was raining diamonds. Niki was gone, but when Peter looked out the window, Matt was laying on some sort of ledge, staring up at the sky at the shower of diamonds.

Another voice came screaming out of nowhere. Peter looked up to see a huffing fat face in place of the sun yelling "THIEF!" down at Matt. This was replaced by another face that Peter somehow knew to be Matt's now late wife, Janice.

"You stole these diamonds!" she accused. "You lost your job and immediately turned into a diamond thief!" Peter saw her belly begin to grow as she yelled at the still prone Matt. "You're turning into a worse father than you ever were a husband!"

She was now carrying a wrapped bundle and left the room through a cell door. Matt lay still on the floor, unmoving. His clothes changed to scrubs and a bright glow filled the room.

"You let that psycho kill me, Matt," a scruffy looking man accused. It took Peter a moment to recognize Ted Sprague. The scene changed from a cell to a burning house, Noah pulling a burnt girl in red and white from the premises. It could only be Claire. A yapping ball of fur danced around their feet.

The house exploded, reforming into a police van. It was upside down. Peter could see into the back. Someone was hanging upside down, something dark dripping from his head. "You let that psycho kill me, Matt," Ted Sprague accused him again.

A soft chuckle made Peter turn. Sylar stood there, smiling. He opened his hand and a small explosion erupted in it. "Boom." He then turned and seemed to throw something at Matt, who was now crucified on the sculpture in Kirby Plaza. Molly looked on, screaming, as Sylar disappeared, only to be replace by Mohinder.

Suresh pulled Matt down and cradled him as he seemingly bled out. "Let me die," he said, reaching out for Peter. A flash of light erupted overhead, clearing the sparse cloud cover. Peter knew that was meant to be him and Nathan.

When Peter looked down, the scene changed again. They were now in an apartment. Molly and a still bleeding Matt were having pizza under a photo of Mohinder. A familiar electrocardiogram beeping was coming from nowhere. She got up to leave, but Matt suddenly cracked a whip at her, which tied her back to the chair and forced her to finish her food. He noticed Matt had gone bald at the same time graffiti on the walls grew bright. It was crude drawing of eyes with a stylized S-shape.

Peter recognized it as the symbol his father's law practice used. Another shadow appeared behind the balding Matt. Adam Monroe. He held a chain which Peter now realized was a leash and it was attached to his own neck. He looked up to see a radiation burnt Nathan and Hiro sitting on the couch as Adam held Matt's head down while he dropped a vial. Everyone else in the room began rotting away. Nathan, Hiro, Adam, Molly.

"All my fault," Matt muttered. He had grown heavier, balder, older. He was Maury.

Peter blinked and suddenly, his father was there, along with a young blonde woman. The graffiti on the wall turned into a painting of Matt holding a limp blonde figure and a turtle. Matt stood, pushed the woman behind him, and allowed Arthur Petrelli to break his neck with a flick of his wrist. A knock at the door and a black man entered. "I failed you, too, Knox," Matt-Maury said. head still askew, as he held his arms out to his sides. "You really are a shark." The man punched into his chest and pulled out his heart, then he clotheslined the woman as she tried to run. Peter blinked again and Knox turned into Emile Danko, who shot her. The young woman's wound grew, festering, Peter realized. She was aging faster by the second. A child flitted in and out of perception as she aged. Matt-Maury reached out to her and the scene turned into Paris. He pulled her close and they were dancing in the clouds before she faded into shadow.

"Matt? What was that? What's going on?"

Hiro appeared and presented Matt-Maury with a baby, then disappeared. The shadows of the scene withdrew. Peter understood that Matt was finally happy, as his wife appeared, but so did Angela. Matt turned away from his wife and knelt over Sylar, Angela forcing him to reshape Sylar's face like clay into Nathan. As he did, part of the clay broke off and crawled up Matt's face and he became Sylar.

The scene changed again. Peter recognized Matt's home as he and Sylar seemed to be having a drinking competition. Matt's wife laid nearby, in front of a roaring fire in a skimpy negligee. Matt acted as if he had won, but it was Sylar who rose and-

Peter turned away. He could hear Matt issue a string of obscenities over Janice's moans.

"That's the second Parkman I made scream today," Sylar boasted.

That still echoed as the scene changed again. Peter was at the side of a road. He watched in horror as the two men argued while a third looked at the flat tire on a car. Sylar suddenly had strings from his fingers attached to Matt, who resisted as he picked up a tire iron and-

Peter winced, realizing what would come next. When he opened his eyes, he was in a diner. The pair faced each other across a table. Sylar was doodling. Matt reached across and grabbed his hand a moment, then they left. Outside, they were surrounded by cops. It was now Matt's turn to manipulate Sylar.

Peter winced again as the sound of firecrackers filled the air. This time, they wound up in a hospital room. Matt's face flowed from his own to his father's to Sylar's as he saw Nathan beside the bed. Sylar's face erupted in a sinister grin as he clasped hands with Nathan and his face was lost.

Matt-Maury rose from the bed in a tan police uniform and the scene reverted back to Matt's home. Sylar followed him in the door as Peter saw Janice and the baby tied to a chair. In a blink, Janice was replaced by Sylar and Matt was building a wall around him. Peter remembered this as being when he came for Gabriel, but Matt pushed him back.

Another man approached and seemed to surround Matt. He pulled Matt to his feet and Matt's leg went sideways. He was about to stab Matt when Sylar emerged from his brick wall. Peter could feel Matt's fury at his rescuer.

The house cleared. Janice returned with the baby. She answered the phone, then handed it to Matt. "I miss you, too." Janice turned on him. He took her head in his hands and images poured from Matt's mouth to her head. She grabbed the baby and left the house. Everything went dark again. There was a buzzing noise that Peter faintly understood as other events happening to him as their surroundings blurred to another place. It took Peter a moment to realize this was where Janice had left to. Matt bolted out the door. Peter knew he had to follow. Matt assaulted him and they rolled on the grass once more. When Matt sat up, he was suddenly behind bars. One of the officers was still there as Hiro blinked in and out again, then everything went dark again and Maury stood over him, his hand on a gravestone engraved with "Matt and Janice Parkman".

"Do you understand?"

Peter looked around. He didn't recognize the voice. It was young and male. A young Indian stepped out of the shadows.

"Leave me alone," Matt whimpered.

"Do you understand?" the boy asked again.

Matt rose to his knees and grabbed the headstone. "I don't care. I just want my son back. He's all I have left. I don't want anything else."

"He has eyes but cannot see."

Peter could tell Matt was crying as he hugged the marker. He finally sat back and Peter saw Maury's reflection instead of Matt's.

"We are our fathers," Peter said.

Matt shook his head. "No. I'm not. I'm _not_, do you hear me? I'm _not him!"_ He pulled back and punched the stone. It shattered into gravel. "I'm not like him!"

"You must choose," the boy said.

Peter knelt beside Matt and put an arm around his friend's shoulders. "You aren't, Matt. You don't have to be."

"I don't want to be, Pete," he replied, pulling the other man into a hug. "But I am. I let them take my son, just like he abandoned me. I've lost him."

"You weren't there, Matt, you couldn't have known," Peter tried to console him. "We'll find him. I swear. I'll help you get him back."

Matt gave him a confused look. "You can't even help yourself, Peter. Look at you. You're barely yourself."

"You must choose."

Both men turned to look at the boy.

"I was sent here to help you both. You must both choose," he said. "What shall your destiny be?"

"What do you mean?" Peter asked.

"Who do you want to be?" he replied, waving to the gallery below.

Neither man had realized that they had returned to Peter's house, the main floor below a crowd of people. "What-what's going on?" Matt stammered.

"Who do you want to be?" the boy repeated.

"I-I have to choose? Is that it?" Peter asked, looking down at the crowd.

"Peter?"

"It's so crowded in here, Matt. That's why I'm having so many problems," he realized. He turned to his friend. "Before, right after Kirby, I was taken by the Company and given a drug to suppress my ability, so I wouldn't copy every ability I came near. I was picking up several I didn't even know about."

"What, you got too powerful?"

"Exactly! I was taking in too many powers to contain properly," he agreed. "That's how I lost control at Kirby. With everyone around me, with all of Gabriel's abilities to copy, I lost control. Claire and Nathan saved me from overloading."

Matt paused to remember the young blonde he glimpsed at Kirby. Had she been ordered to shoot Peter 'just in case', like Angela had requested of him? "And now what? You make all these people leave your head? How?"

"You must choose," the boy repeated again.

Peter pointed to an older man. "When my father removed my original power, I took the Formula to get it back. But my trust in him, in Nathan, in my mother, I refused to allow them to betray me again. I got my power back, but I could only copy one at a time from someone I was touching. Usually it was intentional, but a few were copied without meaning to."

"You're losing me, Peter."

"I think it was part psychological, part my body trying to protect me," he explained. "With my trust issues, I put up mental blocks, which my body also reacted with losing and regaining my ability. I was open before, trusting everyone around me, so my ability copied every ability I was around. When I finally put up walls to keep people out, my ability reflected that. I had to be open to someone to copy their ability, don't you see?"

Matt looked down to the crowd. Several people were now smiling at this breakthrough. "We have to sort the wheat from the chaff, is that it?"

"I'm not sure how to release these powers," Peter admitted.

"You've copied my power before. I shut down Sylar's powers, when he came to me for help," he explained. "You just need to get in there and do the same," he tapped Peter's head.

"I've also copied Rene's ability to shut down powers," Peter acknowledged. "It's just- where do we start?"

"Start with a minor power, or a big, dangerous one, your choice," Matt suggested.

Peter looked down into the crowd. He made eye contact with the scruffy looking Ted Sprague. "I can't go nuclear again. It's too dangerous." He took on Ted's appearance. He felt he should say something. "I release you, Ted."

Matt looked down and saw Ted wave up at him. "Goodbye, Ted. You're a nice guy, but a lousy cross-country traveling companion," he smirked. "I hope you find your wife on the other side." He then whispered something under his breath Peter couldn't quite make out, something throaty and foreign.

Ted smirked back and nodded before turning and heading out the front door.

"That's one down," Peter noted. "Who's next?"

Matt eyed the man Peter pointed out earlier. "That your dad?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Basically the same ability I have now, but...not yet. I don't think I can do him, just yet."

"Can I offer some advice?"

Peter and Matt looked down to see Sylar standing at the front. "What." Matt didn't ask, it was a demand.

"Peter, you need to get down to a more manageable power set. Perhaps you need to decide which ones you think you will need? I retained my telekinesis when my abilities were reset partly because it was the guilt of my first murder and acquisition," he admitted. "Do you have any abilities in here with a high emotional aspect?"

All three turned at once to Nathan.

"You're nothing if not a quick study," Nathan mused as he suddenly appeared on the balcony with Peter and Matt, hugging his brother. Matt clapped Nathan on the back before he broke the embrace and entered a door on one end of the balcony. "I'll always be here for you, Pete," he smiled before he entered.

"Nathan? Wait, don't go!"

"I don't think he did, Peter," Matt noted. "Ted went out the front door, a sign he was leaving. Nathan went into that door up here, a sign he was staying."

Peter nodded understanding. "Yeah, I guess you're right? Who's next?"

"Other emotional ties? Duplicate powers you don't need?" Sylar offered.

Peter scanned the crowd. He now saw several people had paired up. Claire and Adam, with Daniel Linderman and Jeremy Greer nearby; Arthur and Sylar; Angela and Isaac; Matt's double and Charles Deveaux; Niki and Mohinder; assorted others.

"If I have my prime ability, for lack of a better word, I don't need dad and Gabriel."

"You just said you weren't ready to let him go, Peter," Matt reminded him.

"Yeah, you're right, I wasn't, but looking at this logically, I can release a number of these copies," he explained. "Dad, I'm sorry you couldn't love us but it's time to let you go."

Matt turned away from this exchange. Below, Arthur nodded and headed out the front door.

"Now Sylar," Matt insisted.

"Hold on, I might need his intuitive aptitude to finish this," he countered.

Matt grimaced and looked back. "So what are you going to keep? Offensive or defensive powers?"

"A mix?" Peter suggested. "How many do you think I should keep?"

Matt shrugged. "I don't know, six? Seven? I've got telepathy, some, uh, psychic illusion, and I can push people into doing things, that's it. You're the one who gets to pick what he wants, here." He recalled the few times he had used the psychic drawing ability, he had been with Usutu or under duress. He wouldn't count on it happening again.

"Okay, how about this, I keep a permanent set, but allow myself to borrow the occasional extra ability? Sound good?" Matt shrugged. Peter thought it over a minute. "Okay, the next few names, go on out," he declared. "Eden, I won't need your persuasion. Jesse, I don't need your ability. West, sorry, I have Nathan. Rene, Samuel, Edgar, Emma, and Tracy, I can copy your abilities again, later, if I have to. Niki, you can go with your sister."

Matt eyed both twins a long minute as they left the room and Peter dismissed more. He was impressed with how many names he remembered to go along with abilities. He also noticed who Edgar had been standing next to.

"Hana, I won't need you and Micah, sorry. Charles, thank you and tell Simone I'm sorry about what happened. Elle, I think I'll pass on your ability. Same goes for you, Flint and Knox."

"That narrows the pool, considerably," Matt noted, still eyeing a certain blonde.

"I know a few I'd like to keep, like Mohinder's strength and agility, and, um, her speed, if that's okay with you?" he suggested as Suresh and Daphne appeared on the balcony. Mohinder merely nodded and entered the door Nathan had. Daphne lingered a moment.

"Daph, I, uh," Matt stammered. "I'm sorry."

"I understand, Matt," she said and kissed him on the cheek. "Take care of your kids for me, will ya?"

Matt blushed and nodded. She started to leave, but Matt grabbed her hand and pulled her into a kiss before letting her go. "Goodbye, Daphne," he said, again repeating the whispered words he had said to Ted.

Peter did his best to ignore this and pressed on. "Gabriel, can you separate your abilities?"

"Let me try," he replied and concentrated. Ghosts suddenly appeared around him.

In the formerly dwindling crowd, Molly gasped and ran to one man. Sylar looked away, but Peter saw Matt fume at the other man. He knew who she had run to.

"Matt, I can copy her ability later if I have to. Can I release them?" Matt didn't take his eyes off Sylar, but nodded his assent. "Mr. Walker, you and Molly can go." The man picked her up and headed toward the door. She had laid her head on his shoulder, but looked back up to Matt one last time. He gave her a quick wave, fully aware he would see her soon enough.

Peter dismissed several more of Sylar's victims, keeping only James Martin's shape shifting and Brian Davis' telekinesis. Dale Smither and several others went to their rest. Soon, the rest of the group had dwindled to Angela and Isaac, and Claire, Adam, and Daniel Linderman.

"Didn't you say six or seven?" Matt noted. "I count five, already. Not much offense."

Peter nodded. "Precognition would be an advantage, but do I choose Isaac's artistic version or my mother's dreaming?"

"Personally speaking, I wasn't aware of my surroundings when I used Usutu's psychic painting ability," Matt advised. "Anything could have happened to me. Figure that against potential bad dreams."

"Mom did give me my first ability," Peter noted.

"And she's still around to copy off of, if you have to," Matt noted.

"Right. Mom, I'll see you in a bit," he nodded. She smiled at both men and headed out the door.

"So you're keeping precog?"

"I haven't decided yet," Peter mused, looking at the group of regenerators and healers below. He pointed out Linderman and Jeremy Greer. "Now Linderman, he could heal others, as can Jeremy, but Jeremy also has the counter ability to that and can kill. Do I choose one of them or go with either Adam or Claire?"

Matt pointed at the old man. "He sounds like the better choice of those two. Weighed against your niece and the guy who tried to kill the world, though? That's your call, but Linderman does look a bit ragged for being the same age as our parents."

Below, Linderman huffed and Adam chuckled, nudging his late associate in the ribs.

"Points noted, but also, Claire had some healing ability with her blood, and one may assume the same with Adam, who we know has 400 years under his belt. Do I want to live that long? Should anyone? Besides, Noah told Claire her blood wouldn't help with something like Hiro's brain tumor, so curing cancer is out."

"Ever the healer, huh?" Matt smirked. "Claire's still around, so for me, your choice falls between Adam and Linderman. Physician heal thyself, or heal others."

Peter frowned. "Claire, Jeremy, you two can go," he decided. She smiled and hooked her arm at Jeremy to escort her out. He ignored her and made his own way out, leaving her to shut the door behind her. "So now it comes down to someone who was practically an uncle, and my brief mentor, who was a genocidal maniac."

"Tough choice," Matt mused. "Personally, I'd be against the genocide."

Sylar spoke up. "Can I make another suggestion?"

"No," Matt scowled as Peter nodded.

"You know Claire is functionally immortal. You know I copied her power, so I am as well. I've come to an understanding with both of you individually, but I know we might not always see eye to eye," he explained. "Having a third to keep us company would probably alleviate the boredom after a century or two, don't you think? I mean, I know she's your niece, so there's that, but if you and I also have shape shifting-?" He left that suggestion hang.

"Oh, that's just _wrong_," Matt scolded.

"Just the reaction I'd expect from someone whose days are numbered," he smirked.

Matt and Peter gave him an odd look. "How did he know-?"

Sylar suddenly rose up to stand level with the balcony. "You didn't notice the other young man had disappeared, did you? The Indian boy."

The other two seemed to take stock of their surroundings. "I just thought he was letting us work this out on our own?" Matt stammered.

Peter nodded. "Then that means-?"

Matt's face grew angry again. "If he could slip in and out, then so could others. _Dad._"

Sylar wagged a finger, tutting. "Close by, but no cigar. Who else has been in both of your heads, Matt?"

Matt gripped the banister tight. "Get. Out."

"You're the one who invaded first," he countered. "I'm only here to pull you out if you caused too much trouble."

"Gabriel!" Peter shouted. "I don't want you here. Is that understood?"

"Peter, I'm hurt! I only offered the advice you wanted," he said. "Little Sanjay -San_jog_- he had a hard time breaking through with the both of you in here," he explained, turning back to Matt. "In fact, your father was the one who suggested I come in, as I had previously shared, um, headspace with the two of you prior to this. I've kept mostly silent. You can't deny that."

"You snuck in here," Matt accused.

"As did you," Gray countered.

"I came in her to try and wake Peter up. To help him."

"I was sent in to see what was going on, with orders not to interfere, lest I be kept under sedation again," Gray explained.

"Guys-!"

"He's tricked us, Peter. He made you decide which powers to give up," Matt exclaimed. "I wouldn't be surprised if he was standing over us, ready to kill us both!"

"And where are you, Matt?" Peter asked.

Matt stopped glaring at Sylar. "What?"

"Where are you, in the real world, this instant?"

"Sitting at your bedside, why?"

"Why did you come in here, Matt?"

"To help you wake up!"

"That's a lie," Gray announced. "Tell us why you really invaded Peter's mind, Matt."

Matt turned his attention back to the man floating just out of reach. "I needed back-up. I thought I put you down, but dad is out there and woke you up, didn't he? And now he's got Mohinder working for him as well, doesn't he?"

"Mohinder's here?" Gray asked. "News to me. I haven't seen him since-" He stopped to think a moment. "No, wait, that's who was with your father, wasn't it? When you threw me out of our shared hospital room? I was a bit distracted at the time, what with you assaulting me. I only know your father from him coming into my head to wake me up and asking me to check on you two," he explained. He then cocked his head and gave Matt a curious look.

"You're working with _him_, that's proof enough for me you sick bastard," Matt accused him.

"Matt-"

"No, Peter! We can force him out! We can do it together! Come on!"

Peter grabbed Matt by the shoulders. "Matt, it's back. Whatever's on you -in you- it's back." He turned Matt around to face the mirror.

Matt stared at his reflection. At the writhing double emerging from his own self. "Pete? Do you still have the power to negate abilities from that black dude? Bennet's buddy?"

"Rene? No, I let him go. He's one I figured I could copy again later," he explained.

"I don't think he could help you, anyway, Matt," Gray noted. "This isn't some ability or aspect of your own power. It's you. Your guilt and rage and self-loathing. This is your own battle to fight, Matt."

Matt glared at him and the dark symbiont grew. "You would know all about that, wouldn't you, you sick bastard."

"Actually, yes. I do," he admitted. "I craved power and respect that I had never had before my ability emerged. I thought I could take whatever I wanted. I was wrong." He floated closer, landing on the balcony. "Angela gave me a chance to change myself. Sure she did it for her own selfish reasons, but she apparently knew I was at a turning point. That I could do good in the world and it was that chance she gave me. The time I spent in your head. The time I spent as Nathan. The time I spent trapped in my own head with Peter. All that made me see the world differently. Made me want to _be_ different and _make_ a difference, not for selfish reasons, but for reasons I had to find for myself." He turned and looked down at Claire and Isaac. "I now realize I hurt so many people when I should have been helping them. I apologize to all of you for what I have done." He turned back to Matt. "I apologize to you, for what I made you do. For what I did to you and your family. I was being honest when I said I wanted to find your son, Matt. I bear him no ill intent. It's the least I can do now that your wife had been taken from you." He held out his hand. "Truce?"

Matt hesitated. The creature on his back retreated some. The door at the other end of the hall opened and Nathan, Mohinder, and Daphne stepped back out. They surrounded Matt along with Peter.

"We're your friends, Matt," Peter reminded him. "We only want to help."

Matt glared at Gray and his symbiont flared once more before calming down. He gave each of his friends, real or essence, a hug. "I-I'm...sorry," he finally said and turned to Gray, taking his hand.

Peter watched as the symbiont receded and Matt's clothes became his police uniform once more. He clapped Matt on the back and urged his chosen essences to return.

"What say we make a fresh start outside?" Gray urged.

"We, uh, I mean, I'll give it a shot," Matt agreed. Gray smiled and faded from view.

"About bloody time, you lot," a scruffy looking man declared. "Are you all decided then?" he asked Peter in a thick accent.

"Where did you come from?" Matt asked.

"Never you mind," Claude snapped.

Peter smirked. "Matt, this is Claude. He helped me get a handle on my powers, back before Kirby."

"And a right sorry mess you lot nearly made of it," he accused.

"Wait, is this the guy my dad said you went to visit before you crashed here?" Matt inquired.

Peter nodded. "Yeah, he is. Noah sent me to fetch him, but I think he -or mom- really sent me to get advice on how to proceed next."

"And what's your big advice?" Matt asked.

"Stay out of sight and get bloody piss drunk," he smiled before turning and heading into the room Nathan and the others entered. "I can't leave you alone for a bloody minute, can I?" He stopped before entering, admitting "You know, I never had this much bloody trouble with Charles."

Matt stared after him, confused. "He's an acquired taste. Ask Noah," Peter smirked. "Are we okay now? Are _you_ okay?"

Matt shrugged. "For now. I'll probably feel better once I have my son back."

Peter's smile faded. "We'll find him, Matt. We're here to help you. If it's the last thing we do, we'll find your son."

Peter didn't realize what he said until Matt solemnly replied, "Yeah, we'll get Matty back. Even if it's the last thing I do."

Matt concentrated, releasing his connection with Peter, dissolving away from the psychically constructed Manse Petrelli.

"You can come out, now," Peter said. Matt's own double, Hiro, Micah and DL, and Claude's young friend Abigail stepped out of the kitchen to join the last remaining essences. "Make yourselves at home, now that the place isn't so crowded," he smiled. "I'll be back when I can." Nodding to the group, he concentrated and forced himself to wake up.

Peter woke with a gasp to find a somewhat crowded room. His hand felt sweaty and sore, as if it had been gripped too tight. He saw Matt was sitting beside his bed, rubbing his face as he had just woken up, while Molly tried to climb into his lap and hug him.

On his other side, Gabriel Gray was excusing himself on account of Molly, not wanting to upset her. At the foot of his bed, Maury Parkman stood giving his son a stern look. Behind him, Peter could see Hiro was still unconscious. And in the bed Matt had previously occupied next to Hiro, the Indian youth Sanjog was waiting beside Mohinder patiently. Peter could just see around the corner that a large bald man was giving Gabriel the 'evil eye' and started to escort him out, with hints that there were more guards beyond his field of vision and posted outside.

"Feeling better?" Maury asked, distracting him.

Peter wasn't sure who he was addressing, himself or Matt. "For the most part. What did I miss?"

Matt was a bit more direct. "Can we go find my son, now?"

"If you had been a bit more patient, we have a few leads," Maury replied.

Molly took that as her cue. "We think we found Micah," she announced. "There was a GPS signal being routed to the Rebel Network site, and when I looked for him, it appeared to be the same area," she explained.

"Well, that's just Micah, isn't it?" Matt asked.

"Micah wasn't the only one I was looking for, silly," she scolded him.

Matt glanced from his foster daughter to his father. "W-What? You mean-? You found my son?"

Maury opened a folder and handed him a map. "Patience is a virtue, Matt."

Matt glanced down at the map and saw a red circle. "You found my son," he repeated, tears welling at his eyes. He hugged Molly to him.

"First things first, though," Maury warned. "We are drawing up a plan of rescue. We don't know who else is at this location, nor why they were kidnapping these particular children, and why only children. _No one_ is going in there half-cocked without any back-up or plan. Am I understood?"

"You found my son," Matt cried into Molly, oblivious to his father's warning.

* * *

><p>TBC...<p>

A/N:

Orenda - The power of human will to change the world. Set up as an opposing force to fate or destiny. If powerful forces beyond your control are trying to force a particular outcome, orenda is a kind of vocalized summoning of personal strength to change this.

I know this was mostly set in Peter's head after the opening scene, but I didn't plan on getting both Peter and Matt's heads straight in this chapter. It just happened. I wrote this over a day and a half in two sessions, one of the quicker chapters and the next was written in two days following, as well. And next chapter will have one more mind scene for someone else, and that should be it. Oh, and don't think either Peter or Matt have their heads fully straight. Both have a few "monkeys on their backs" yet, which is what I hoped y'all realized is what I was getting at with Matt's personal demon there.

12/9/12


	14. Ch13 Dangerous Minds

HEROES - Volume 6: Brave New World

Chapter 13: Dangerous Minds

Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable characters, just playing with Tim Kring's toys.

A/N - show canon; GN semi-canon/references. A couple OCs.

* * *

><p><strong>UK<strong>

Rising from his mess hall table, Iason Galifianakis approached Austin. "Sir? Might I have a moment of your time?"

"Not really, but go ahead," he growled, stirring the drink in his hand by swirling the ice cubes. He glanced back to the others the healer had been conversing with.

"The other recruits and I have been talking," he said. "We would like to know if we are to go public as a united front, as we have seen on the news broadcasts?"

"So they send the pacifist to ask?" he replied, taking a swallow of his liquor. He motioned the man to sit.

Iason took the seat opposite the man who had recruited the international squad of Specials. "The others grow restless with simply performing your military training all day. We were lead to believe that we would be proactive in certain areas of distress in the world, assisting people."

Austin eyed him. "You lot aren't going anywhere near a war zone, if that's what you're asking."

Iason shook his head. "Nor did we expect to, sir. Several of us were engaged in proactive patrols in our native lands, and merely wished to continue our work."

"You know the Yanks have yet to announce their team, right?"

"This has not escaped our notice," Iason nodded.

Austin shrugged. "I'm told that we're going public as soon as they do in New York or DC, wherever they announce their team."

"I understand. The United Nations is working in tandem with the United Kingdom and America, correct?"

"Believe what you want to believe, red," Austin scoffed and downed the last of his drink. A buzzing from his jacket interrupted the conversation. "Austin, go," he answered. "Yes, sir. I understand, sir," he said and seemed to listen for a moment. "That's good to hear. We'll be waiting for your signal, then."

Iason waited patiently as Austin tucked his phone away.

"Tell the others to be ready to move at a moment's notice," he said, then left the commissary.

Iason reported the order to his new compatriots. Some cheered at finally getting notice of action, while a few kept their opinions to themselves. One of the more recent recruits, the young lady archer known as 'Briar Rose' pulled Iason aside. "Well?" she demanded in her thick Scots accent.

"The liquor dulled his responses, but I do believe he was pleased with the call," he informed her.

"Do we know the identity of his boss, then?"

Iason shook his head. Adom, the Egyptian known as Bakari, spoke up. "What of his abilities? Do we have confirmation of those?"

"He seems to carry a different energy aura every time I see him," Iason admitted. "Today's was slightly different from other days. I have heard there are some who can possess or copy other abilities, but not having met any like that, I can not say for sure."

"The impression I had was that the traveling one was not his," Adom noted. "It is possible his ability could work in conjunction with another's."

"Anything is possible these days, it seems," Iason agreed. He looked up to see Austin pass by the doors again, accompanied by a large man in brown leathers carrying an ancient Trojan styled helmet. "Anything."

* * *

><p>Noah Bennet returned to Helix Base with four new recruits in tow, albeit one in chains. He expected the news of other recent arrivals, but not their conditions. Leaving Eli Polsky to see to the recruits, he made his way to detention center with Eric Doyle and Rene escorting the seven foot plus, large hairy muscleman that had attempted a bank robbery in Chicago to his new cell.<p>

Leaving Doyle to check in their new 'guest' with several guards, Noah went to check on another duo with Rene and a pair of regular soldiers. "Let them out," he ordered the soldiers. When the two prisoners were ushered out, they both started to say something, but Noah raised his hand. "I don't want to hear it. Follow me," he ordered and led them to an interrogation room.

Once inside, he motioned them to sit. Rene closed the door behind them as Noah glared at his two wayward charges. "_What_...is going on?"

"Spreading the truth," Lyle snarled.

"You nearly ruined _everything!_" Claire screamed.

"Claire, quiet," he ordered, ignoring her huff of protest. "Lyle, where did you get those files?"

"From your office, where else?"

"Your mother said it looked like you had been on the computer before you disappeared. Did you scan them?"

"_DUH!_ Why wouldn't I? I need a bit of insurance!"

"Insurance for what, knob goblin?" Claire retorted.

Lyle glared at his father and then Rene. "That I wouldn't _forget_ again."

"Who did you share them with?"

Lyle crossed his arms and slouched down in his chair. "I don't know what you're talking about."

* * *

><p>"Are you feeling up to his, Peter?" Maury asked.<p>

Peter shrugged. "No time like the present," he said and sat before Matt once more. "You ready?"

"Déjà vu all over again," he nodded.

Peter concentrated and held Matt's ankle. Matt felt the cool electric tingle run up his leg once again. When it faded, Matt felt like he had run a one-legged marathon.

"How's that feel?"

"Like I just took a bath in muscle relaxant, only less smelly," Matt quipped, working his ankle in circles while slightly glad the effect didn't travel higher this time. "I see you didn't change faces this time," he noted.

"Linderman?" Maury inquired.

Peter looked up at the older man cautiously. "Yeah."

"Good choice," he agreed, looking across Matt to the unconscious Hiro Nakamura. "I'm not sure if Danny's healing could help Kaito's boy, though."

Peter stood and looked to Matt. The unvoiced question passed between them. Would it do more harm than good? Matt nodded his assent. "Have you tried a mental probe?" he asked the elder Parkman.

"Random flashes, nothing intelligible I could make out," Maury replied. "It looked like a samurai movie, video games, stuff like that." He moved to the foot of Hiro's bed. "My Japanese is rusty, or I would understand more of what he was thinking." His mind floated back to his falling out with Kaito.

Peter looked over Hiro's charts once more. "I should try and contact him telepathically before trying any healing," he suggested.

Maury motioned to the chair beside the bed. "Be my guest."

Petrelli sat, took his friend's hand, and concentrated. "_Hiro? Can you hear me_?"

He suddenly found himself in a similar scene that Maury had described. A feudal countryside populated with various video game and comic book characters. There seemed to be a tournament of sorts happening in the near distance, so he followed the crowd to see what was going on.

Peter found the center of attraction to be a three way duel between a masked samurai, a mutton chopped character in brown spandex with claws, and a swordsman in a kilt. Overseeing the duel on the ornate Japanese grandstand were an older Japanese couple. Peter recognized Kaito Nakamura and guessed the woman to be his wife, Hiro's mother. Beside Kaito sat an equally stern-faced Adam in feudal period clothing, while a young boy in a suit sat at Ishi's side.

Sidling his way through the crowd, Peter felt like he was on the set of _Roger Rabbit_, with the mix of living and characters in various states of animation, moving drawings to fully animated beings of various stages. Reaching the dais, he reached out to tug on the young boy's arm. "Hiro! It's me, Peter!"

The boy ignored him as the combatants parried once more.

"Hiro? It's Peter. I need to talk to you."

The crowd suddenly fell silent. Peter looked around and most of the audience faded from view until only the quartet on the dais and the three combatants remained. The samurai yelled something at him in Japanese he couldn't understand.

Adam leaned forward and turned to Peter. "Carp says you are not welcome here."

Peter gave him a confused look. The Samurai yelled at him again. Peter rose, faced the warrior, folded his hands, and bowed. "My apologies, Master Carp. I only came here to talk to my friend." He hoped he was understanding the situation correctly.

The samurai shouted something else. The mutant drew his claws against each other in his classic move and took up an offensive stance. The samurai and Scotsman mirrored the mutant's stance, swords poised to attack.

Peter held his hands up flat. "I am no threat to you. I only came here to talk."

In a flash, the samurai was in front of Peter, his katana at the man's throat. He yelled again.

"Carp wants you to leave," Adam urged.

"It's me. Peter Petrelli." He could now see the man's eyes behind the mask. "Hiro, I'm a friend."

"No friend! You leave!" the samurai ordered.

"As you wish," Peter replied, remembering the line from the fantasy movie. "Help me, Hiro Nakamura, you're my only hope."

The samurai's head cocked to the side.

"One for all, all for one?" Peter offered.

"You kill my father. Prepare to die," he declared.

Peter gulped, then stood ready to face the warrior's wrath as he drew back for a killing stroke.

"Excuse me, sorry, that's my bad," Adam admitted. "I killed your father, Carp."

Peter glanced over to him and saw he was now in a black robe, holding a red laser sword to Kaito. No one else on the dais moved. The samurai charged. "_Nooo!_"

Adam and the samurai began dueling. The arena changed to a dark, metallic room with a large round window behind the dais. Peter watched in amazement as the scene played out almost exactly like in the movie. Only when Adam made a play for the killing blow against Kaito, young Hiro suddenly came to life with his own laser sword. He deflected Adam's blow only for the immortal to spin and lash out.

His stroke instead struck the samurai. His mask fell away to reveal the adult Hiro beneath, then exploded in a shower of sparks to reveal Adam's own face.

"Well, that's unfortunate," the blond quipped. The next Peter knew, Adam had been unhanded, literally, by the mutant and the Scotsman. He turned and faced young Hiro.

"Your move, Carp."

The boy stood poised in front of Kaito, ready to jump. He glanced to the fallen samurai. "No!" He threw away his sword. "I am not like you!"

"That is most unfortunate," Adam said and lightning erupted from his stumps.

Hiro fell back, trying to protect his parents from the assault, but only fell to the floor. He reached out to them, "Mother, Father! Help me!"

Peter fought the urge to assist, to tackle Adam, to do anything. He finally saw Ishi move. She turned to look down on her son and gave a sweet smile, opening her hand to release a robin that flew away. Then Kaito finally moved. He gave his son a slight nod and looked to the sword Hiro had thrown away. Peter realized it had broken when he had thrown it. Hiro reached out for it and it flew to his hand, reforging itself anew. As he closed his small fist around the hilt, the blade glowed blue and he leaped to his feet, blocking the electric assault.

"Evil shall never triumph!" Hiro declared as he stood. Peter now saw he was no longer a child, but the young man he had known. As he leapt from the dais, his appearance changed once more into the urban samurai Peter had first met. In one swift stroke, Adam's head fell from his body.

As it hit the ground, laughter rang out. Adam had been replaced by Sylar. Hiro stood his ground and stabbed him once more, as he had done at Kirby Plaza. As he fell to his knees, Peter thought his face changed for a brief second into Nathan. Hiro swung again and the man's head fell away once more.

Hiro stood triumphant over his foes as his parents politely clapped their appreciation from the dais. "Peter Petrelli," he intoned. "You are not wanted here."

"I only came to ask for your help, Hiro."

"I have no wish to help you, Peter. I have lost too much."

"As have I," Peter countered. "I still live in the real world, Hiro. Your friends need you. There is a dark time coming."

Hiro sheathed his katana. "I am done fighting, Peter. Leave me."

"Hiro." Peter turned to see Kaito standing. Hiro dropped to his knees in supplication. "You dream of being a mighty samurai, but when the opportunity arises, you hide away. This is not the way of the warrior."

Hiro's face quivered. "I am sorry, father. I am only a dreamer, not a true warrior."

"You are many things, my son." Kaito turned and vanished. Ishi rose, hands folded upon her breasts, then spread them out to her son. She faded into a bright light.

Hiro reached out to her as she disappeared. "I am weak."

"No, you are not," Peter told him. He held out his hand. "Come back with me. Please."

Hiro looked up to him with tears in his eyes. "Peter, I-"

Peter woke up with a jerk. It took him a moment to re-orient himself after the sudden change in surroundings. Matt and Maury were waiting quietly by.

"Well?" the senior Parkman inquired.

"I-I'm not sure what just happened?" Peter stammered. He looked to the bed and saw Hiro was still asleep. "Hiro? Are you coming back?" He reached out with his mind again, but was rebuffed. Changing tactics, he grabbed Hiro's hands in his, feeling the physical damage, repairing it. When he sat back a minute later, there was no change.

"What happened in there?" Matt asked.

"He doesn't think he's worthy to help us," Peter replied. "And I think he watches way too much TV."

He saw both react and looked down to see Hiro's eyes had opened. Before anyone could say anything, he disappeared.

"Well, so much for that," Matt groused, secretly wishing the young man well. And that Hiro had taken him along. He caught his father frowning at him before he glanced away to the doorway.

"What did I miss?" Noah Bennet asked, entering the room.

"Noah," Maury and Peter acknowledged in near unison followed by a gruff "Bennet." from Matt.

"Well, we have these two back on their feet, but we just lost Nakamura," Maury explained. "Gray is up as well, but Walters is still out. Hanson also brought back a stray civilian from California. What about your end?"

"Four in from Chicago," he replied. "Three peaceably, one not. Oh, and Lyle compromised us. He wouldn't say to who."

"Lyle?"

Noah sighed. "My boy."

"Claire's brother?" Peter interjected. Matt nodded, the memory of his invasion of the Bennet house with Ted Sprague came to mind. He recalled they had never really gotten to know -no, never _asked-_ the names of Bennet's wife or son.

"On his good days."

"Want me to go talk to him?" Matt inquired. "Or is he still mad at me for shooting Claire?"

"I'll do it," Maury said, leaving the room before Matt could argue.

"So, how's that little ball of fur?" Matt inquired.

"Fine, I guess. Sandra's got him, putting him out to stud," he replied.

The three men shared a bemused smirk, each waiting for the other to make a joke. Matt finally cracked. "Lucky him."

The trio's laughter was broken by Mohinder clearing his throat. "I see you two are feeling better," he noted. "How is- correction, _where_ is young Mr. Nakamura?" amending his inquiry after seeing Hiro's bed was empty.

Peter shrugged. "He disappeared after I tried to wake him up. I think I healed him, but he-" He made a 'poof' motion with his fingers. "-as soon as I did. No clue when or where he could have gone."

"I see. Quite...unfortunate," he noted. "Are you up to looking at another patient with me?"

Noah inquired "Walters?" Mohinder nodded.

Matt and Peter shared a confused look. "Who's Walter?"

"Dan Walters," Noah corrected. "Possible heart attack after the drama yesterday, I'm told." He looked pointedly at Matt. "You couldn't miss him. I hear he surprised everyone by his size increase and rage against your favorite person."

"Big guy Sylar took down?" Matt said flatly, ignoring the barb. "Yeah, I remember seeing him pinned down. Sylar gave him a heart attack?"

Mohinder spoke up. "It was my understanding that it was a result of his transformation? The unexpected size increase was too much strain for his body to bear, and all the other wounds he suffered have healed, save for the heart muscle."

"If you aren't busy, would you mind taking a look at him, Peter?" Noah inquired. "Not just for your medical expertise, but now that you have access to healing again, if what you said about Hiro was true?"

"Sure. We don't have anything else going at the moment," he replied, rising. "Matt, want to tag along?"

Matt nodded and brought up the rear of the quartet as they made their way to Dan Walters' room. They found his daughter Violet waiting, watching the BBC News.

A divided screen showed a prim looking black woman, while a video clip showed a man in street clothes swinging like a chimpanzee from streetlights to buildings to a red phone box and another man in Viking gear scuffling with a group of men, one wearing a large, round, black helmet while the others wore white helmets that could either have been fashioned after bowling pins or phallic in nature.

"Authorities have the nihilist group in custody, thanks to the efforts of private citizens who only identified themselves as 'Monkey Thunder' and 'Norse Daffyd'," the reporter informed her audience before the second image switched to a group in orange jumpsuits scrubbing graffiti. "In other news, a local community center is being investigated after a series of odd events, including a growing list of disappearances associated with the local ASBO-"

Violet finally fumbled the remote's off switch for the television in her father's room.

"Hey, how come we were crammed four to a room and he gets a private room?" Matt asked and was promptly ignored.

"Violet, this is Peter Petrelli," Mohinder introduced. "He has medical training and a healing ability, among others."

Peter shook her hand and took the medical chart. "Did your father suffer any previous heart trouble? Family history?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know," she admitted. "I was adopted."

"So this isn't your biological father?"

"Oh no! No, he _is_ my father! My biological father," she explained. "_I_ was the one put up for adoption. We only recently found each other. He said he had two, um, _experiences_ shortly before we met, but those were, um, he _shrank_, apparently. After I started staying with him, he had another one, right after we turned in for the night, and I saw it for myself. He was maybe six inches tall."

"So he physically compressed?" Peter inquired, Mohinder listening closely. "Did he say the other instances happened at a particular time?"

"I'm not sure what happened. He yelled out one night after turning in, at maybe like eleven? I ran to his room and saw he was six inches tall. I freaked out for a minute. He passed out. That's when he started returning to normal size, I guess? We went to the emergency room and told the doctor it was chest pains and he didn't find any physical damage, so he gave dad a prescription for anxiety," she recited.

Peter frowned. "Any other time, I would say it wasn't too smart lying to your doctor, but considering the situation happened before we went public," he mused.

Matt spoke up. "He wasn't on your radar, Bennet?"

"What? What are you talking about?" she asked.

Noah gave Matt a dirty look before turning to Violet. "Did they explain to you that the Company has been around for several decades?" She shook her head. "Well, we have, and it was decided before I joined twenty years ago that individuals such as your father, Peter, Matt, and even Mohinder, would be watched, once they made themselves known," he explained, pointing to each man in turn. "In the cases of Misters Parkman and Petrelli, that task was significantly easier, as their parents were involved in the running of the Company."

"Which took precedence over their families, apparently," Matt sniped, sulking against the wall.

"_Matthew!_" Mohinder chided. _This is not the time nor place for your rants against your father_, he projected toward his friend. Matt gave no sign he heard.

"However," Noah continued. "There are those who slip through our cracks, as the science behind these abilities are inexact at best. Some may skip a generation, and some may emerge spontaneously, as could any genetic variation. Your father was one of many like these, who we were unaware of, especially as his ability was late in developing and he kept it hidden."

She gave Bennet a dark look. "Then explain how, if no one else knew about his ability, we were taken hostage by your soldier goons?" Matt smirked at this.

Noah glanced to Mohinder. "Blood tests. Thanks to the Human Genome Project, we have identified a certain genetic marker which seems to be a certainty in every Special we've found so far, but not all who carry it develop abilities. Obviously, these markers can pass on to the child, regardless if the parent's ability activates or not. A recessive trait, if you will, skipping a generation."

"So you're saying, I carry this marker, but I may never have an ability?" she asked.

"Entirely possible. Your father is what, in his forties, before he developed?" he asked. "You may develop late like he or Parkman did, or you may never activate, but there's still a chance you will pass the marker on to future children, who may activate. We have no way of telling."

"I'm only forty, now," Dan piped up. Most of the room turned to him in surprise. Peter had been distracted going over his charts again and listening to Noah, but Matt smirked, having picked up a few stray thoughts. "Y'all talk too loud. I'm trying to sleep."

"You heard what I was explaining to your daughter, Mr. Walters?"

He gave a slight nod. "By the way, I'm adopted, too, if that helps, but probably not," he admitted in a tired voice. "I didn't find out until after my parents died. Found the papers in their stuff, but no clue who my birth parents were."

"How are you feeling, sir?" Peter inquired.

"Like I went ten rounds with Tyson and Holyfield. You the doctor?"

"I'm a registered nurse and EMT," he answered, checking the man's pulse. "Mohinder here is more of a geneticist, and has some medical training."

"Yeah, you would have been my first choice, no offense," Dan told Mohinder. Suresh shook his head that he didn't mind. "What's going on?"

"Do you remember what happened to you, yesterday?" Noah inquired.

"You in charge of this joint? A Fed?"

"I'm one of several in charge, yes," Noah admitted.

Dan rubbed his temple, and seemed to notice the IV in his arm for the first time, sighing at his predicament. "Not much. I know we were kidnapped, brought here and processed in, and ran into an escape attempt? When they finally decided to release us from lock up, some other kid was causing trouble. Everything gets hazy after that."

"You don't remember being shot at?"

Dan immediately started feeling his body. "Not really? The kid was burning me, but without fire? I seem to recall someone hitting me, like with rocks or something? Then I was on the ground, couldn't move, and someone was whispering, telling me to sleep?"

"Sylar pinned you, my dad told you to sleep," Matt explained.

"You're a Fed, too. Or a cop," he replied. "I can always tell."

Noah raised an eyebrow, intrigued at the possibility of someone else with multiple abilities. The man's file listed his occupation as a self-employed mechanic. "You can tell how?"

Dan frowned in confusion. "I'm good at reading people, a plus when I deal with them all day. The way he carries himself. The way he's watching all of us. Simple body language," he explained. "Am I right?"

"LAPD," Matt admitted. "Plus a brief stint with NYPD. Before I got pulled into this mess again." He glared at Bennet.

"Again?" Dan repeated.

"You admitted to joining the breakout," Noah inquired. "Why?"

Dan's expression grew dark and his monitors suggested agitation. "I don't know. Maybe because we had been _kidnapped_ and took the first excuse to get the fu-" he caught himself, glancing to his daughter. "To get the heck out of here, away from our captors."

"Did you know you were actually trying to break an individual out?" Bennet pressed.

"My daughter and I had done no wrong, we were given an opportunity to escape," he explained. "Freeing others along the way would only be right."

"And were you aware you had been misdirected to the cell of someone who had misused his abilities and was being held in a secure cell lest he cause more trouble to the outside world?"

"So I've been told when we were jailed after," Dan admitted. "I'm still not sure who we were supposed to free?"

"Me." Matt glared at Bennet again. "This was the break out dad told me about, wasn't it? They were after me."

"I would ask your father, Matt. I wasn't here," Bennet countered.

"Why are we here, Bennet?" Matt demanded. "He knows where my son is! _Molly_ knows where Matty is! Why am I still here? I should be out there getting my boy back!"

Mohinder grabbed his arm to quiet him. "Matthew, please calm down!"

"Didn't you hear, Suresh? Didn't they tell you what Angela saw?" he shot back. "Peter's dear old mother saw me die. I want to see my son before then."

The room fell quiet. Matt stormed out. Bennet was flustered, calling after him. "I'm sorry, Matt. I couldn't tell you! They wouldn't let me!" He turned back to see the angry faces of his friends. They silently pushed past him in pursuit of Matt.

Noah rubbed his mouth, trying to figure out how things could get worse. He turned and saw Dan and Violet glaring at him. He was now holding his daughter's hand. "I apologize for my friends-"

"Can I have my privacy back, please?"

"Uh, well, Peter was supposed to heal any damage your body hadn't already repaired?"

"Was that the 'laying of hands' thing he did to me while y'all were jawing, or was he just feeling me up?" he snapped. "Yeah, I'm fine, thanks. Out."

Bennet grimaced, waved his farewell and left the room. He debated silently for a moment to follow Matt before he headed back to the interrogation room containing his wayward children and Matt's father. He found Claire waiting outside in the hall, Rene standing over her.

"Did he say anything yet?"

She glared at him. Rene opened the door. "The Director is with him now." Noah nodded his thanks and entered.

"He got into your stash, you know," Maury informed him, standing in front of the sleeping youth. "Just be glad he didn't share the porn."

"I'll keep that in mind," Noah smirked. "Who did he share the Company files with?"

"Someone online calling himself 'CodeStone'."

"Coldstone? Isn't that a beer?"

"_Code_stone," Maury corrected. "It sounds familiar, somehow?"

"Someone from the old days?" Noah suggested.

The look on Maury's face hinted he knew the person in question. "Perhaps. I'll have to check the files," he lied. "I'll see to your boy. Why don't you go show your daughter around the base? Take my boy with you. Show them what we're trying to do here."

Noah started to say something, but thought better of it, and nodded compliance. "Just don't hurt him."

"I'm not the monster Matt takes me out to be, Bennet," he replied. Noah nodded and left his son with the elder telepath. Maury turned back to Lyle and sat across from him once more. "Now, where were we?" he asked, probing deeper into Lyle's mind.

The room looked like a typical teen's bedroom. Several school and professional sports team photos adorned the walls, amidst various posters of bands and a pin up girl Maury didn't recognize. Lyle sat at the computer desk, which was littered with Company files, the scanner constantly running, and the monitor showing various pictures and charts that should never have left the premises of PrimaTech in Odessa. He was typing away, the other user named 'CodeStone' replying as fast as Lyle was sending him the files. Then he sent Lyle his own file.

When Lyle clicked on it to open, Maury saw more familiar charts. They belonged to two people he once called friends. It also revealed the true parentage of the boy. That he had been an attempt to clone Adam Monroe long before Claire's regeneration manifested. He also saw the other results of the previous experiment with Adam. Maury grabbed the boy's head and uttered a single word.

"Forget."

Snapping back to the real world, he looked up to see Eli Polsky pass by the window in the door towards the other cells. A cursory mind scan showed Maury he had just seen to the captive from Chicago they had just brought in. It took Maury a moment to realize not only should he be accompanied by another guard, but that they had sequestered the Sasquatch-esque man in a different area than planned.

* * *

><p>"Walk with me," Noah Bennet said, leading Claire upstairs. They came upon Matt arguing with Mohinder and Peter in the building's lobby. Sally Schroeder was there as well, trying to convince them all to quiet down. "What's going on?" he inquired.<p>

"Where's Molly?" Matt demanded on seeing Bennet rejoin them.

Bennet looked to Mohinder. "I wasn't aware it was my turn to watch her? Dr. Suresh?"

"I told you, I'm not saying until you calm down, Matthew."

"Don't make me take it from you, Mohinder," Parkman threatened.

"Gentlemen, why don't we take this outside, get some fresh air?" Noah suggested. "Let you test that bad ankle before you go running off anywhere, half-cocked? Let me show you around, so you can see what we're really doing here."

"I. don't. care." Matt snarled. "I want my daughter. I want my son. I want you to leave me the hell alone!"

"She's my daughter, too!" Mohinder snapped, suddenly aware of how that could be misconstrued.

"Yeah? You bundled her off to god knows where at the first sign of trouble, and _never told me_!"

"A- I did it to keep her safe, and B- you never asked," Mohinder countered. "You were too infatuated with Daphne to-"

Matt stepped closer to Suresh. "Don't."

"Outside. All of you. Now," Bennet ordered.

"C'mon, Matt," Peter urged. "Some fresh air will do you good." Matt didn't move. "Please."

Mohinder and Claire followed Peter to the door. Noah turned to Sally, who started to apologize. "It wasn't your fault, just go get the packages ready," he told her. She hesitated a second, glanced to Matt, then hurried off. Bennet then turned to Matt and pushed at his shoulder. "Come on, let's walk."

Matt resisted a long moment, then grudgingly followed the others, throwing as many dirty looks as he could as they followed Bennet around the base.

Their first stop was the other recruits' basic physical training. "A few military drill sergeants running them through basic PT drills," Bennet explained.

Matt was reminded of the police academy and vaguely recognized a few faces from the co-ed group that Dan Walters had been with the day before. A couple barely looked eighteen ranging to a few who looked slightly older than him in their forties, he guessed.

"Col. Davis here is in charge today because of his outburst yesterday," Noah pointed out. "Everything copacetic, Colonel?"

"As long as that bloody killer is dead, then yes."

"My sentiments, exactly," Matt muttered, knowing who he meant.

"Moving on," Bennet declared, heading toward the aerial obstacle course Matt had seen earlier. He motioned to the officers monitoring their progress. "Claire, I believe you've met Cpl. Mills?"

Peter made note that the other two officers with Mills were wearing Air Force flight suits similar to what Nathan had worn during his service. Her badge indicated Marine Corps.

"Rachel, right?" she asked extending her hand.

"Miss Bennet," Rachel replied, holding her hands behind her with her clipboard. The three fliers alighted behind her and quickly stood in formation.

"Nice to see you too," Claire started to snark before recognizing one of the aerialists. "West?"

"Claire," he replied coolly.

She turned to her father. "What's he doing here?"

"Helping us," Noah informed her, before turning to see a quartet coming to join them. "Cpl. Mills, I do believe I have another airborne recruit for you?" he said, motioning the three men and the woman over. "Night Raptor, this is Cpl. Mills, you will report to her after you get your bunk squared away and changed. Is that understood?"

Several amongst them rolled eyes at the use of a code name over his real name. The man in the brown caped costume glanced between the two groups uncomfortably, noting the obvious disdain. "I understand, even if I don't like it," he griped.

"You agreed to help us, so that means you will partake in drills with others in your power set," Bennet reminded him before turning to the others. "Miss Burchett, Upstart, you'll be with the rest of the low level powers." He pointed to the group they had just left. "No offense, that group just has less outré or specialized abilities. Strength, mental, and more covert abilities, that is," he clarified. "We're headed towards the barracks in a minute, you may as well join us," he suggested. "Doyle, did Director Parkman have any other orders for you?"

Eric was distracted from nodding hello to Claire. "Huh? Oh, no, sir. I was to see them to their quarters then escort them to their assigned squads," he explained.

Bennet nodded, said something to one of the other supervisors, Lukas Bahn, then motioned for the larger group to follow him. They approached one man struggling to stack crates. Peter stepped forward to watch him for a moment. He let one drop and dropped to his knees in exhaustion. "You alright?" Peter asked, approaching him.

David Berman nodded, panting. "I've been at this almost all day. I'm totally wiped."

"Don't try to force it," Peter suggested. "Just imagine the object moving. Soon enough, it will be reflex." He glanced over and concentrated. Three of the crates floated up and moved in a circle before they came down in a stack.

"Show off," Berman panted. "I can barely lift hundred pounds."

Peter's lip twisted as he thought on the subject when Upstart interrupted. "If I may? How much can you lift, physically?"

Berman shrugged. "I dunno, fifty, maybe sixty pounds? I don't go to the gym, so I never really tested myself."

"A pity. Do you find it easier to move a number of smaller objects than one larger?"

Berman thought for a second. "Sometimes. Why?"

"So you work better with smaller objects, rather than larger and heavier?" he clarified. "Try something smaller. Perhaps a tool set or small pile of rocks?"

"We've got a pile of debris from Mr. Petrelli's arrival yesterday. We still need to fill in the crater," Noah offered. "Beyond that, we can stop by the motor pool."

"Lead the way then, Mr. Bennet," Upstart urged.

"We were headed there eventually," he sighed. "Peter, can you stow those crates?"

Chagrinned, Peter asked where the supervising officer wanted them and stacked them where directed before following the group to the motor pool. There, they were greeted by a large clanking. They were surprised to see a suit of armor nearly ten foot tall working it's way around an obstacle course of several military vehicles in various stages of repair. It was obvious the armor had been constructed from various scraps found on the base, from it's hodge-podge look and military coloring. The main body was egg-shaped with a turret of sorts for the head. It seemed as if more work had gone into the legs than the arms, which were still partially exposed and had rudimentary claws for hands.

"Mr. James! Can you bring it in, please?" Bennet called out.

The armor turned toward them and began it's slow plodding across the warehouse, escorted by a small group of military personnel with portable monitors. When it neared, the helmet popped loose and the chest cracked open with a hiss, revealing the pilot strapped inside the torso. He wore goggles with a variety of wires trailing out, and many could see the various readouts flashing across the lens for his HUD. He wore a pair of gloves and boots also wired into the armor.

"What's up, Mr. Bennet?" he greeted. "I've nearly got the kinks worked out, it's just a matter now of speed and mobility on the field testing. After that, we're talking armament. Give me another week and you'll have an assembly line of these," he boasted.

Claire expected a more serious nerd type, but he was a near middle-aged, slightly overweight dude in coveralls. This man reminded her more of a lighthearted cross between her adoptive father and Matt, except his hair was brown and long enough to start curling a bit. She figured him to be a few years younger than her currently sour-pussed telepathic friend. Not that she blamed him, she didn't want to be here for her own reasons, much less his previous rant about getting back to his family.

"May I present Mr. Rodney James, our resident mechanical genius," Bennet announced to the crowd. "We just need to borrow a corner of the motor pool for some more testing with one of our telekinetics. Will that be a problem for you?"

"What do you need? I can have one of my Rovers get it for you," he replied. Peter pointed out to Matt another makeshift robot rambling around the back corner. A similar one sat quiet nearby. After his experience inside Hiro's head, a quip about droids came to mind, but Matt's indifference held his tongue.

"It's more the use of your tools and such, not your Rovers," Noah informed him.

James gave him a thumbs up. "Fine by me, boss. I'm sure we can work around him."

Noah turned back to the group. "Alright then, Mr. Berman, you and Upstart can stay here with-"

Noah stopped as he realized the others were looking around for the source of the shaking as several small items nearby began to fall to the ground. They all soon felt it as the ground itself seemed to heave.

"Earthquake!" Matt shouted. "Get to a clear area so nothing falls on you!" he ordered, having lived through his fair share in California. Everyone in the motor pool ran outside save for Rodney in his armor, who only closed himself up to move it clear.

"This is Virginia," Burchett shouted. "There aren't any fault lines around here!"

Petrelli and Bennet shared an alarmed look. "This isn't a natural earthquake," Peter informed her. "This is an ability. You've got Samuel Sullivan here, don't you Noah?"

"He's supposed to be sedated in solitary!" Bennet shouted.

"Well, he's awake now, and with all these Specials around, what happened in Central Park will be nothing compared to this!"

* * *

><p>Closer to the epicenter, Maury Parkman stumbled his way through the shaking walls, avoiding falling plaster and broken glass from lights and windows as best he could. He sent out a mental call to anyone nearby to summon the help he knew he would need when he sensed a presence before him. Several in fact. And none of them were very happy.<p>

"I don't believe we've met," the tattooed man said, sizing up the older fat man. "Going by the look of you in that suit, I seriously doubt you were a prisoner here, either."

"Actually, I think he runs the joint," the men holding up Samuel on either side remarked in unison. One had the carnival barker's trench coat slung over his free arm.

"Polsky? I thought you were working with us?" Maury panted, trying to dodge a falling chunk of ceiling plaster and failing.

A growling in the dark behind him made him turn. "Hi there, tubby."

"Have you met our new friend?" Eli asked.

"Actually, I've known him for quite a while," Samuel corrected. "He just didn't like the carnival life, but he does owe me a few favors, especially since we're breaking him out of this joint."

Maury stumbled back, trying to get as much distance from the latest discontent, the large, hairy man that tried to rob the bank in Chicago before he was apparently thwarted by Upstart, Night Raptor, and Mary Burchett. All of whom were elsewhere in the base.

* * *

><p>TBC...<p>

A/N:

I've left a lot of the new recruits open as to identity, only making a few story notes as to ethnicity, and Rodney was originally meant to be black, but as I started writing his scene, I felt he was more of a Ray Stantz (Ghostbusters) or Danny Heffernan (King of Queens, the cousin of Kevin's lead; real life bro) type. I still do have a couple black characters in mind, one featured previously, but that aspect is secondary to their parts.

The "Sasquatch" character is loosely based on the X-Men movie's Sabretooth, as well as a personal friend who is a 7' teddy bear...aaand whose name I kinda borrowed for another character's.

I do seem to be army building with the other groups. Why is that? Heh.

And what of the "packages" Sally was sent after? Oh, and her last name is pronounced like "shray-der"/Schrader, not "shrow-der" like the Peanuts character. I borrowed her from another Heroes fic I wrote and didn't even realize the connection, as the name is from a local business/family to me.

Another previously used minor character was intentionally based on another friend's original project's character, and I found out he's getting 'dusted off' after several years for another TV101 project this morning! LOL (12/11/12)


	15. Ch14 Battlegrounds

HEROES - Volume 6: Brave New World

Chapter 14: Battlegrounds

Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable characters, just playing with Tim Kring's toys.

A/N - show canon; GN semi-canon/references. A couple OCs.

* * *

><p>Daniel Bloom coughed from the dust. Lights were flickering off more than on. Something heavy lay across his back. He was beginning to strain to stay up on his hands and knees. "You okay?" he finally sputtered.<p>

"Yeah, I think so. Thanks," Audrey Hanson said below him.

"Can you help get this thing off my back?" he asked, feeling it shift. Audrey pulled herself from underneath her reluctant recruit, feeling her way more than anything else. "What hit us?"

"No clue, but it wasn't a bomb," she coughed, trying to get a grip on the section of wall support laying across Bloom's back.

"Almost felt like an earthquake," he groaned.

"You been through many?" she asked, pushing against the weight. She managed a good six inches' lift, surprising herself. "Okay, move," she urged.

Bloom scrambled from his position in the dim light. "A few. You get used to them living in California," he informed her, then stopped. "I think I got stabbed by something. My back's wet." He felt a wall next to him and turned slowly to rest against it. "Yeah, definitely hurt, here," he groaned.

Audrey set the wall down and fumbled for her phone. "My cell's broken. What about yours?"

"You've got someone who can track signals like that?" he asked, cautiously fumbling for his, handing it to her.

"We know of someone who can, but he's not here at the moment," she said, trying to remember the main number of the base and failing. "Dammit, what's the number for _anything_ here?" she berated herself.

"How about just playing the music?" he offered. "Anything to draw the attention of a rescue party?" She handed it back to him and he turned up the volume as loud as he could. A moment later, a classic rock song began it's tinny blaring from the device. Audrey allowed herself a smile, and tried not to laugh at the thought the last thing she would ever hear was Bob Seger's _Like a Rock._ "They shouldn't be more than a couple hours, long enough to get someone's attention," he said, hoping it wouldn't take too long if he was really injured. He briefly regretted insisting on tagging along with Hanson and Bahn, especially with his wife's furor over his sudden, spur of the moment departure. Why did he cross the country with these people? To prove a man innocent of murder, or was there something more to it?

Outside, Noah Bennet had already began barking orders. Fliers were to recon the damage, help any upper level people to the ground if they needed help. The enhanced strength were to help move the debris from exits firsts, rescue as needed. Jimmy Smith was called on to create support structures with his poles for any damaged areas, while the base's sole pyrokinetic, Dan Page, was ordered to put out any fires.

Matt Parkman and Peter Petrelli recruited David Berman to rescue and locate anyone they could. Ian Alexander and Steven Elliot offered to help as best they could, hoping their abilities of chance and clairvoyance would help. Claire insisted on following, as well. All had been briefed who to look out for, the mental image of Samuel Sullivan shared by Petrelli, not that there were any other punk rock cowboys on the base. As the rescue teams spread out, Bennet made a phone call for assistance.

At the epicenter of the attack, in a sub-basement three levels below the ground, Sullivan was supported by two of Eli Polsky's clones due to his physical condition. Being kept sedated for several weeks plus the strain of his initial assault had seriously weakened him, and he knew they were vulnerable, even if the presence of other Specials were giving him an energy boost. They were followed by Eldyn Horvath, the monstrous savage often referred to as a "Sasquatch" as he refused to give their captors his name. He drug the limp form of their former captor, Maury Parkman.

"How many of us are topside, Eli?" Samuel inquired. "I can feel their power above me. So many!" he grinned.

"Gotta be at least three dozen recruited by now, if not closer to fifty," he informed his master. "That's all the ones I know about. You said they like to pair up their flatscan agents with our kind, didn't you? There's probably double that up there, then."

"How about it, fat man? How many people you got up top?" Samuel prodded the limp Parkman. "And how many you think I just killed?"

Maury ignored him, concentrating on blocking the pain, hoping he wasn't gravely injured by Horvath, but he could feel the wetness as well as a growing fever. He also tried to contact his son telepathically, but Matt had still been intentionally blocking him, so he turned his attention toward Bennet.

_I hear you, Maury. I've already sent for help to deal with Sullivan_, Noah replied. _Hang on and try to find out as much as you can._

West Rosen came down next to Bennet. "The main damage seems to be on the far building, on the other side of the orientation building," he reported. "I didn't see anyone, but I thought I heard music from one of the upper levels of that one," he explained.

Noah nodded. "Go tell Petrelli and Parkman to direct their efforts over there," he ordered.

West nodded and flew off in search of the man who he had met once prior, claiming to be Claire's uncle and asking to copy his flight ability. "Mr. Petrelli, over here!" he called the other man over. He pointed to a window, "I hear music inside."

Peter had flown up next to the youth and listened. He cracked a smile at the tune. Using his telekinesis, he opened the window and motioned to West to follow him inside. "Stay here. If there's an aftershock and I need your help, I'll holler, okay?" West nodded as Peter turned to survey the dimly lit area. Amid the debris of an inner room, he found two people waiting patiently as Aerosmith now blared from his phone now that the _Queen_ song ended. The woman was glad she didn't have to listen to that music again. (_It wasn't even one of the _good_ Queen songs! _Audrey quietly fumed, hoping his wife had loaded his music tracks as she thought of ways to stop this music _now_.) The man didn't look too well. "Are either of you injured?" Peter inquired as he landed next to them.

"I think I got stabbed by something," Bloom answered him, holding up a bloodied hand from where he had felt along his back for the injury.

"Can you move?"

"I made it this far. I'm not sure I can move again?"

Peter knelt next to him. "Relax, I'm an EMT," he said, reaching out with his healing ability once more. Concentrating on the wound, he felt for foreign objects with his telekinesis before healing it. "How's that feel?"

Daniel allowed himself to relax after the electric tingle ran across his back. "What did you do?"

"Healed you, now come on," he held his hand out to help Bloom to his feet. He turned to the woman. "Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine, Petrelli," she scoffed. "Officer Bloom courageously took the brunt of the wall falling on us."

"Agent Hanson?"

"Nice to see you, too, Petrelli," she said. "Now how about getting us out of here?"

"What happened?" Bloom asked as he followed Peter and Audrey to the window. "Oh geez, we're not gonna jump are we?"

"Earthquake," Peter answered. "And not exactly. Don't fight me, here," he urged as he telekinetically lifted the pair out the window with him.

"I didn't think there were any faults on the East Coast?" Bloom asked as a distraction from he sensation of floating down three stories without any visible support.

"There aren't any," Peter replied as Matt met them. "Anyone else up there?"

"I didn't hear anyone in immediate danger, which doesn't mean someone wasn't knocked out," Matt told him. "This Alexander guy said he was looking, but didn't see anyone in immediate danger or already making their way out." It took him a moment to register who Peter had brought down. "Bloom? _Audrey?_ What are you doing here?"

"Trying to make sure someone's got your back, Parkman," Bloom replied, but Matt was staring at Hanson.

"Hello, Matt. Long time no see," she said.

Matt fumbled for the words to answer when an aftershock rippled through the base. "Watch out for falling glass!" Matt and Bloom shouted almost in tandem. They ushered Audrey away from the building as West and Peter took to the air again. Matt led the pair back toward Bennet at the motor pool, helping a few others who were dazed or had minor injuries as they went.

"I told Mr. Butler that it looked like the next building took the brunt?" West informed him.

"Who's Butler?" Peter asked, as they flew over to the next building. "You mean Noah Bennet?" he corrected, thinking the kid had fumbled the name in the confusion.

"Yeah, Claire's dad," he clarified, momentarily forgetting that the family had been using an alias in Costa Verde when he met them. Even though he had stayed 'Facebook friends' with her, he rarely had time to check in with his busy college courses. His prior brief meeting with her uncle Peter had been set up by a private message on the website, which he only knew about due to having his page set up to give him email alerts. Even then, it had barely been an hour's notice before Petrelli's arrival.

Clearing the building, they saw that it had not been an aftershock, but an eruption from under the base tarmac. Samuel Sullivan and his troupe stood at the center of the eruption. Around him stood several clones of Eli Polsky, one of which had a limp young man slung over his shoulder, who had obviously been sedated as Samuel had been kept. Next to them stood a tall, muscular, hairy man holding onto the injured and barely conscious form of Maury Parkman.

"Peter Petrelli! Why am I not surprised to see you here?" Sullivan called out. "Anyone else in your motley band come to greet me?"

A rock flew towards him, but he easily stopped it. "Right here, you punk!" Claire called out, stepping out from the nearest building. "We stopped you once, we'll do it again!"

Peter flew down to her. "Back off, Claire! Whoever gets close to him only gives him more power," he warned.

"And I can feel how many of our brethren are here, Peter!" he called back. "Is our little friend Hiro also here to spirit them away?"

Claire looked to Peter for an answer. He gritted his teeth. "Go with West and get your dad, Claire. We need some non-powered soldiers here. Now go!" She started to protest, but he shouted at her to go again.

"I take it your answer is no, then?" Samuel grinned. "I know you can't copy abilities without touching someone first, Peter. I won't let you touch me again." Around him, more Eli doubles sprouted out of thin air. "Tell me, Peter, what ability are you copying at the moment? I saw you flying. Is it simple flight? Telekinesis? Neither will allow you to stop me this time."

Peter gave a slight smirk at this. He saw no reason to reveal his recent change in ability control. He now regretted letting go of Samuel's earlier so he could combat the man on even terms.

"You forget, Samuel, he's not alone here," came a familiar voice from behind him.

Samuel spun to see another familiar face. "Gabriel Gray! This is a surprise!" he greeted the other man.

Gray answered with a telekinetic volley of small rocks toward the group. Sullivan barely flinched. "You missed, Gabriel!" he laughed.

"Did I? Or was I merely distracting you?"

Samuel turned to see that Eli had been reduced to a few duplicates, the others destroyed by the rock assault. The unconscious body of Luke Campbell fell to the ground once the double holding him dissipated. Gabriel grinned, then unleashed a volley of lightning at the last handful. Horvath the Sasquatch screamed in pain as he dropped Maury. The injured Parkman made himself as flat as he could to avoid the assault.

Sullivan was quick enough to create a pillar of rock to hide behind, deflecting the brunt of Gray's attack on him and Eli. As soon as it stopped, he was already on the attack, creating a whirlwind of rubble around his group, randomly flinging stones at either Petrelli or Gray.

"You won't stop me this time!" he screamed. "I'm too powerful for you here!"

"Want to bet, Samuel?" another familiar voice dared him as a second whirlwind began a countercurrent to Samuel's.

"Edgar!" Samuel shouted. "Are you in league with these poor deluded saps, as well?"

"I'm not following _you_, that's for sure," Edgar shouted back. "I've also brought along a friend."

Sullivan felt the ground under him shift as a shadow dropped in from above. He could feel the rock coming down on him and pushed it away. Doing this distracted him enough to make him drop his protective whirlwind.

Edgar pressed his opportunity and knocked out Eli-Prime, barely avoiding a lethal swipe of Horvath's claws. The man-beast's distraction also cost them their only hostage as Gabriel grabbed Maury telekinetically out of the way.

"_No!_" Samuel screamed, realizing the odds were turning against him. He spotted the latest newcomer, an Indian girl hovering near Peter on a boulder. It was obvious to him she was behind the other terrakinetic assault. He reached out and sent a pillar of rock up from directly beneath her, knocking her from her perch.

Fortunately for Sparrow Redhouse, Peter was there to snatch her to safety, away from the eruption below. She apologized for not being ready, but Peter told her she had helped enough and to be ready for another attack. He glanced back to see Samuel had turned back to attack Gabriel. Rock walls erupted around Peter's former nemesis and the wounded Maury Parkman. Before they closed in, Peter could see Gabriel reacting to block them from closing the pair in.

"Did you see that? Could you do that to Samuel?" he asked Sparrow. She nodded and concentrated. Around the quartet of Samuel, Eli, Luke, and Horvath, a similar rock cell sprung up from the tarmac. "Try to hold it while I help the other two," he urged as he went to help his friend.

He saw Edgar and stopped to catch his breath, but had also gathered a pile of debris to throw at Samuel if he emerged from Sparrow's prison. Peter wondered if Edgar had been in many snowball fights, as it looked like he was preparing for one, but he had another combatant on his mind at the moment.

_Gabriel, Maury, can you hear me? Are you alright?_ Peter projected into the formation Samuel had created around his opponents.

_Peter? We're fine, but Mr. Parkman seems to have suffered some serious wounds, here_, Gabriel answered.

Peter mentally directed him where to push telekinetically as he pulled to free the pair. He decided it best to do this on the other side of Sullivan's cage. After straining a moment, the far side pulled free and collapsed. Peter saw Maury was bleeding from several places, as if attacked by a wild animal.

"Noah's got a triage set up near the motor pool. Get Maury over there, ask him to send Doyle back," he told Gray.

"Are you sure you don't need my help?" he asked. "He still has Luke."

"Maury needs medical attention first. Sparrow, Edgar, and I can handle things for a few minutes. Now go," he urged. Gabriel nodded and lifted Maury with his telekinesis before flying him away to the safety zone.

Peter turned back to his opponents to see Sparrow looked to be having trouble. "I can't hold it!" she shouted moments before the rock walls she created crumbled away from her three captives.

Sullivan used the rubble to attack her even as Edgar began throwing his pile at his former ringmaster, distracting him. Peter saw a group of soldiers forming up on the far side behind Sparrow. He gave them a gentle push and mental order to "_Keep back!_"

Turning his attention back to Samuel, Peter lifted the cell created to trap Gray and threw it at the other man. Samuel seemed to have sensed this and it crashed to the ruined tarmac before it reached him. Peter didn't stop his assault, as he grabbed the deflected rocks Edgar was throwing with his TK and sent them back at Sullivan's group. Eli was definitely out for the count it seemed, and the monstrous Horvath was keeping low to avoid the flying rocks. Peter wasn't sure if the boy was breaking out with them or another hostage as Maury had been, so tried to avoid throwing low to avoid injuring him.

The strain seemed to be showing on Samuel after this point, as he allowed a few glancing blows past his defenses. Peter saw behind Sparrow and Edgar a trio of familiar faces. Matt and Gabriel flanking the bald Eric Doyle, who looked annoyed at seeing Sullivan once more. Still, Doyle held his hands up, fingers crooked. Matt had acquired some gear from one of the soldiers, flak jacket and pistols. He took aim at Sullivan.

Samuel seemed to pause, partly as he was hit by another of Edgar's thrown rocks and partly, Peter knew, as Doyle took control of his physical reflexes. The man's defenses suddenly weakened and more rocks struck him.

Without warning, Peter felt a searing heat tear through him. He looked down to see two bullet wounds in his chest. He looked around, but couldn't see where they had come from.

_Peter! Behind you!_ Matt's voice shouted in his head. He turned but could see nothing, but still felt a presence there. He felt another stabbing pain as he was shot again. He realized the ruckus of the fight had muffled the gunshots, but Matt was seeing or, more likely, sensing someone else present just as they were subduing their main antagonist. Peter dropped to his knees and instinct had him draw upon two other abilities, regeneration and invisibility.

A short distance from him stood a young black woman with a stolen semi-automatic pistol. "Who are you?" he asked as she fired at him once more. He saw her aim and called created a TK field to catch the bullet this time.

Before she could fire a fifth time, a piercing scream seemed to fill the air, knocking most to the ground in pain, including, Peter saw, the invisible girl shooting at him. She recovered enough and he heard -or rather _saw_- her curse under her breath as she ran past him to Samuel.

Peter coughed up bullets as he turned to follow her and saw two men emerge from nowhere. One was in an expensive suit and wearing mirrored shades, while the other was in brown leather armor and wearing a Trojan styled helmet. Edgar threw a few more rocks, but they fell short of the two newcomers. The larger man in brown knelt to grab the fallen foes, tossing even the large savage over his shoulder as if he were nothing.

The man in the suit seemed to take in the damage from the assault and make particular note of Peter and the trio on the other side. He pointed at both sides with two fingers and dropped his thumb, as if firing a gun. He then blew his fingertips before the group disappeared, the invisible girl among the departed.

Peter struggled to his feet as Sparrow descended and Matt came running up to him, Edgar following. "What the hell just happened? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he panted. "I have no clue who that was. Did you get a mental read off either of them?"

Matt shook his head. "No, did you?"

Peter shook his head as Edgar added "Did you see the rocks fell, as if they had been drained of energy or blocked, somehow?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah. I imagine Noah or Maury might have some answers for us?"

"If we're lucky," Matt scowled, escorting his friend back toward the motor pool.

On their way back across, Gray excused himself to help with the relief efforts, as he had more to offer with that than add to what Peter could inform Bennet of at present. Peter suspected it was partly to keep a respectful distance from Matt, as well, for the moment. Sparrow and Edgar offered their assistance as well.

At the motor pool, they found Bennet directing the flow of patients in and out of the area, as the medical building was damaged, and the medical staff were evacuated until the building could be inspected and deemed safe. An ambulance crew were setting up a triage, and had also set up Claire with a IV so her blood could help those that needed it. Matt and Peter found the elder Parkman in a curtained area.

"How's he doing, Dr. Apte?" Peter asked the doctor exiting the cubicle. They could see Matt's father had suffered serious wounds, as if he had been attacked by a bear. It wasn't far from the truth.

"Director Parkman has suffered grievous lacerations, which appear to be poisoned," she explained. Matt and Peter both started at this. "From what I understand, Director Bennet's daughter has blood with healing properties, but I'm told you may be of assistance, as well, Mr. Petrelli?"

"Yeah, I have a healing ability, which is getting something of a workout today," he replied as the pair pushed their way past to Maury's side.

Matt looked grimfaced down at his father's injuries for a long moment before turning to Peter. "That big dude had poison claws?"

Peter shrugged. "So it seems?" he said, glancing at the notes the doctor had made. "Do you want to wait for Claire or-?"

Matt shook his father's shoulder. Maury groaned. "Dad? Can you hear me?" Maury gave a mumbled "mtty?" in reply. _Where's my son, dad?_ Matt pushed. _Where's Molly?_

Maury's eyes flickered open for a second and he moaned. He seemed to realize Matt was beside him and grabbed for his son's hand. Matt reluctantly let him take it, but Peter could see the disgust on his friend's face. "M'srry, Matty. Shez bunks. Shill 'ell y'whur," he coughed.

_Does it hurt, dad? Does it?_ Matt pushed.

"Mtty, srry, s'srry," he slurred. "f'gv mh."

"Matt?" Peter interrupted. "I need to do this now, before any toxins in his blood do any permanent damage."

Matt hesitated. "Go on, then," he growled and gave his father's shoulder one last tight squeeze. Maury whimpered.

"Go talk to Noah. I'll see to your dad, Matt," Peter urged, motioning for him to leave. The doctor stepped aside to let Matt out as Peter grabbed Maury's hands and began to concentrate on his healing.

Matt stepped out of the way of another injured worker being brought in as he left his father's side. He leaned against the building, unsure of his emotions at the thought of his father dying, especially now. Maury admitted Molly was in the barracks, which were mostly clear from Samuel's attack, so she was likely safe. Matt forced himself to pull together for a minute before heading to Bennet when he was nearly run over by a crew bringing a protesting Dan Walters and his medical monitors and IV into the motor pool. Walters was claiming Petrelli had healed him and he was fine, having suffered no injuries in the earthquake. "Tell them I'm fine!" he barked at Matt as Violet followed them into the building, but the group went by so fast, Matt didn't have a chance to say anything. Seeing the worried expression on Violet's face, his own thoughts went to Molly. And Matty.

Turning back out the way he had been headed, Matt saw Bennet barking orders left and right, surrounded by Col. Davis, Audrey Hanson, and a few others he didn't recognize. He spotted Officer Bloom standing off to the side, unsure of what help he could offer at the present. He waved Matt over.

"Wild stuff, huh?" Bloom asked, still incredulous. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine," Matt told him. "My dad's torn up, but Peter's seeing to him. What are you doing here, anyway?"

"I wanted to make sure you had a fair chance at clearing yourself of, um, those charges." He seemed to be embarrassed for bringing the subject up.

"Which ones, the murder of my wife and possibly child, or the treason?" he scowled, glaring at Bennet.

"Hey man, I'm on your side, here," Bloom insisted. "I saw the scene and your initial reaction. I don't think you-"

"Go home, Bloom. You don't need to be here," Matt told him. "This nonsense has turned my life upside down and cost me my marriage twice, now. I don't get a third. If you give a damn about your family, you'll keep as far from here as you can."

"Haven't you seen the news? Ever since that blonde girl went public in Central Park, these people have been going public all over the world! There are national groups being promoted like some secret service army or something!"

Matt shook his head. "I don't care. Go home to your family, Bloom."

Daniel grabbed Matt's shoulder as he started to turn away, and got a stern look of warning in response. "Look, man, I came after you to make sure you got a fair hearing, but this is history changing stuff! This is bigger than Yuri Gagarin or Neil Armstrong going to space! Probably bigger than Oppenheimer and the bomb! The only thing to top this would be proof positive of alien life from other worlds!"

"This stuff has been going on for decades, if not centuries. The only difference is that the general public is now aware of it." He brushed Bloom's hand off. "If you think we're changing the world, it ain't what it's cracked up to be. Matter of fact, if you're going to stick around and be another Bennet bootlicker, tell him I'm going to get Molly." With that, Matt left the rabble and headed toward the building that he learned from a passing soldier was the barracks.

Audrey Hanson caught sight of the discussion and came over to Bloom to ask what was going on. "What's Matt upset about?"

"He doesn't want to be here," he told her. "Told me to go home to my family."

Audrey looked after Matt sulking off. "Honestly, Bloom? I think he might have the right idea."

* * *

><p>Samuel Sullivan woke up and looked around. He and several others were on cots in a barn.<p>

"Sorry about the accommodations, it's the best we can swing at the moment, I'm afraid," a gravelly voice informed him.

Samuel saw a shadow leaning against a support beam. He was wearing an expensive suit and had mirrored glasses pushed back onto his head. He took a swig of an iced drink in a glass tumbler.

"I don't suppose that's tea, is it, brother?" Sullivan inquired. "I could use a drink."

"No, to both questions," Austin replied. "You can, however, do me a favor."

"I don't even know who you are."

The man gave a slight smirk. "All the better for plausible deniability, then."

Samuel eyed the man for a moment. "Who are you? I thought you were one of us, but your energy, there's something..._wrong_ about it?"

"I'm only borrowing it from the lady of the house which you will protect," Austin informed him.

Another man rose from the shadows where he had been sitting. A rather large man, Samuel could see. He was also a Special, but his energy felt wrong, as well, as if it were overlapping with another?

"This is the seismic amplifier?"

"Mm," Austin nodded before taking another drink. "It looked like he was holding his own breaking out of their base. A little rough around the edges, though. Used to run that carnival."

"The boys from the Coyote Sands? What of the other one?"

"My brother Joseph is dead. I killed him," Samuel admitted.

"You killed your brother and lost your traveling carnival of freaks. Not a very good track record," the fat man noted.

"Who are you?" Samuel demanded. "Where am I?"

The fat man lumbered forward, as if unsure how to walk. He grabbed Samuel's chin in his thick fingers. "We're your new masters, boy. You will do as we say."

Samuel pulled his head away. "What makes you think I'll follow you anywhere?"

"I've been sublimating your will to defy us since before you woke up," Austin admitted. "If that's not enough to sway you, I have other means." He motioned to the barn doorway.

A slim figure in a long black coat stepped forward, her hair a mass of wild red. Her features softened in the whiteface she wore. "My pheromones can sway anyone to do _anything_," she cooed in Samuel's ear. His head swam in a thick perfume. He fell over onto his cot.

"Thank you, my dear," Samson nodded and reached to kiss her hand.

"I don't think so," she said quickly, pulling her hand back. "At least this one was easier than Bigfoot over there," she motioned to the sleeping lump in the far corner. "At least I have more thralls for my Sandmen," she noted, licking her bottom lip. and tossing a glance to Polsky.

Samson glared at her for a long moment before turning to Austin. "Does this complete your squad here?"

Austin held up a finger. "Not my squads. You would do well to remember that. This is Codestone's little party. I'm just the messenger. And no, he's still trying to locate our power booster."

Samson's eyes narrowed. "I thought my dear friend Timothy had you as his personal shuttle service?"

"I am no one's 'personal shuttle service'," Austin snapped. "That would be the big man outside in the helmet. I've only had occasion to borrow his ability to assemble these squads, here and...elsewhere."

"So how long until this party starts?" the man-within-the-larger-man inquired. "How long until I see my boy again?"

"That depends on how fast our friends Parkman and Bennet react to this afternoon's playtime with our new friends here." He took another swig of his drink, finishing it off. "Besides, if what 'your dear friend' has told me holds true, then it shouldn't be too long, now."

* * *

><p>Noah Bennet finally had a few minutes to himself, now that the apparent danger had passed with the mystery abduction of their escapees and the regular base emergency services containing the damage. Bloom had informed him Parkman went in search of a "Molly", whose identity Audrey's new tag along was unsure of. Noah thanked him and he was now headed where the girl was supposed to have been before the attack from within.<p>

He found Molly cuddled up to Matt in the barracks common room. Both appeared to have dozed off on a couch. The flak jacket Matt had grabbed earlier lay on the opposite side of the girl from her foster father. A map book turned to Tennessee lay on the table in front of them. Noah mused it would be a cute scene aside from the location. He vaguely remembered Claire doing the same when she was younger than Molly.

"What do you want, Bennet?"

Matt's voice startled Noah out of his reminisce. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you, but we still need to talk."

"My dad dead?"

"No, but-"

"Then we really don't have anything to talk about, do we?" He finally opened his eyes and lifted his head to glare at Noah. "Leave me alone unless you're here to tell me we're going to rescue the kids."

"Matt, look, I just wanted to say-" He stopped for a second when he saw Matt's growing fury. "You jumped right into action earlier. For all your protests, you still came to help us."

Matt dropped his head back and closed his eyes. "I didn't have anything better to do, especially since I wasn't being told where my kids were."

"That's a lie, Matt. You know it."

He saw Molly's hand tighten on his shirt. She was awake. He gave no indication of responding to either of them.

"Fine. I'll just say thanks for helping out, and we'll let you know what else is going on," he said, turning to leave. "For what it's worth, I am sorry about Janet. I hear they're finally releasing her body to the fam- to _her_ family for burial."

"_Janice_," Matt hissed.

"Sorry. Janice," Noah corrected, sparing a glance back before he left. He saw Molly wipe away the tear rolling down the big man's cheek.

He left the barracks and headed back toward the temporary command in the motor pool. He glanced up to see a helicopter passing overhead, but paid it no mind, figuring it was someone getting an aerial view of the base damage.

The base activity had calmed somewhat and he saw Dan Walters was ignoring his assigned nurse to help Rodney James make some adjustment or other to James' armored construct. He wasn't totally surprised as Walters had been a mechanic before his recent conscription.

He paused, wondering if Matt was right? Some of these people had been drafted- no, _taken_, from their lives and pressed into service to form an army. That was no lie. This was definitely an army. Other countries had gone public already. Noah imagined some secret United Nations committee had plans for such an occurrence, and that the First World Nations would present a united front with mutual announcements, but several already had without any consultation from the handful of network intelligence the Company still had contact with. This group was meant to be the United States' public face, and he figured the UK would be following suit any time now, as well.

This also had him wondering who had taken Sullivan's group. Matt refused to talk to him and Peter had been busy with the injured. Even Sylar, no _Gray_ had busied himself with assisting the injured and relief efforts to spare a minute the last few hours. Doyle couldn't tell him more than a well dressed man in mirror shades and a muscle dude in a helmet. He needed a telepath to provide a more accurate description and all three were unable (or unwilling) to help.

Noah approached the triage area to find Maury was finally awake. "Peter's healing touch done most of the work, with Claire's blood working mop up," the elder Parkman chortled. "What did I miss?"

"Peter and some reinforcements almost had Sullivan under control when two men showed up and took them. He also said that we've had an invisible spy in our midst," he explained. "I think it's the same girl who Sullivan sent to stalk Claire at college a little while back, since she had no problem shooting him in the back. Definitely not Pam Green or our friend in the UK."

Maury smirked. "I thought he took a shine to Peter?"

"Another reason why I don't think he was associated with this, especially since I just Peter to see him the other day."

Maury nodded. "So what did these two mystery men look like?"

"I'm not sure. One guy in a suit with shades and a bruiser in a helmet. Peter's been busy helping, as has Gray. Matt found Molly and refuses to help or do anything else until we go after the kids. Only Eric Doyle was able to tell me anything, which wasn't much." He looked around for a second. "I'm not sure where he scurried off to?"

"That cloner Polsky was still working for Sullivan. You don't think he is, too?"

Noah shook his head. "When Doyle escaped Level 5, he went back to his theatre. If Claire hadn't taken it upon herself to go after him with Meredith, I doubt he would have been causing us any trouble until Nathan's little Building 26 fiasco. Even then, he got away and immediately went undercover at a desk job using an assumed identity. When things soured for him there, Sullivan took him under his wing, but I think since most of his carnies are still settled in Ohio, Doyle would probably still be hanging out with them if he hadn't been taken into custody at Central Park and wound up here with Sullivan and Polsky."

Maury appeared to think a moment. "Have someone keep an eye on Doyle, just in case. We let the two of them pair up with other agents since they were so agreeable, but this throws that into question."

"You did read Rene's report that Doyle questioned what they were doing when they were sent after Claire and Lyle at the TV studio?"

"Not yet. I've been busy."

"Apparently, Rene thinks it was more of a passing thought than anything else," Bennet mused. "The thing is, your son is having the same thoughts. They haven't been associating that I know of."

Maury was quiet a moment. "Matt has enough on his plate right now. You told him about Janice?"

Noah nodded. "I screwed up her name, though. 'Janet.' He corrected me, but didn't say anything else, except...well, he asked if you were dead. He didn't want to hear anything else I had to say unless it's that we're going after the kids. Molly already had her map out."

Maury sighed. "Let him be for now. Angela called me this morning. It seems we might have trouble from-"

Sally Schroeder ran into the cubicle, breathless. "Sirs! We've got trouble!"

"What's wrong, Sally?"

"News 'chopper buzzing overhead!"

Noah gave her a quizzical look. "The one that's been flying overhead the last few minutes? I thought that was ours checking the damage?"

"We've got transport Hueys, military surplus," Maury told him. "We don't have any smaller craft for that. That's why we have fliers and cameras." Noah blanched.

"It's worse than that," Sally interrupted. "Miss Valcek says they got her flying on camera. She apparently thought it was ours, too, before she saw the network logo and realized her error. She doesn't know if it was a live broadcast or not?"

Noah and Maury shared a panicked look. "Have Peter meet me by the gate with small squad to deter any looky-loos. And Doyle!" he ordered, already moving.

Maury concentrated, alerting Petrelli, Doyle, Col. Davis, and Rene just in case. The activity outside suddenly became livelier as people rushed to follow orders.

Noah commandeered a jeep to run him to the gate house and was soon followed by two more with Davis and Rene. "No badges and radio silence, people!" he called out as they approached. The gatehouse was already under standing orders to pull badges and wear a vest that covered their names. They arrived to see the local NBC station reporter arguing with the gatehouse guards. She immediately spotted the newcomers and made her cameraman point his camera towards them. The news van's antenna was already up.

Noah cursed under his breath as he climbed down to meet her. "Can I help you, miss?"

"Joeva Langhorst, WATS news," she announced. "Are you in charge of Fort Pickett, sir? You don't seem to be wearing a uniform?"

"I'm, uh, a spokesperson for the base at the moment," he replied, fully aware that this could be live. "What can I help you with?"

"Our WATS news chopper took footage of some damage to your base, that appeared to be the result of an underground explosion that may have set off several seismic recording devices. We were hoping you could provide some comment on what happened?"

"Isn't airspace over military installations restricted to military aircraft only?" he glanced to Col. Davis who he hoped would confirm this. He also felt a familiar tickle in the back of his head. Maury was listening in to this telepathically.

Davis nodded. "Yes, sir. That is true," he replied in a menacing tone. "I do believe this woman has just admitted to taking part in breaking several federal laws."

"Is this a live broadcast, Miss, er, Langhorse is it?" Noah inquired.

"Langhors_t_, with a T," she corrected. "Yes it is. This base was also shutdown some time ago, despite recent activity, so I would question the validity of those charges. What happened here today?"

"I cannot make any statement at this time, Miss Langhorst," Noah replied.

"What about the fact our news chopper was approached by a flying woman in military clothing?" she pressed.

Noah grimaced as he listened to Maury before answering her. "Like I said, I have no comment at this time. If you would like to arrange a meeting with our base press liaison, then we can discuss-"

"Those images of a flying woman have already gone out to our viewers, and- hold on," she pressed a finger to her ear as she glanced away for a second. She suddenly did a double take at Noah. "I'm sorry, one of our anchors in the studio was asking if you are Noah Bennet? The father of the young woman who publicly exposed Specials to the world in Central Park and has been making appearances at our New York City affiliate studios, including the _Good Nite with ANDY_ show?"

"I've been hearing that a lot lately," he said dryly, suddenly glad that Peter had yet to respond to his summons. The media could pass it off as a coincidence with him, but the two of them together before they were ready? Trouble. He was thankful he didn't ask Matt to come. There would be no end to speculation what was going on here at that point.

He suddenly heard Maury's voice in his head. _Nine AM tomorrow._

"As I said, I can put you in touch with our media liaison, perhaps at nine tomorrow morning?" he offered. The next words he heard were from someone else using his voice. "In fact, why don't you invite the other stations to join in? We'll have all the details of what happened here today at that point. Now if you will kindly leave before I have my soldiers escort you off the premises or to the brig? Your call, madam."

To make his point, Col. Davis and his soldiers presented their weapons. Everyone could tell she was being urged to press the issue in the studio, while she debated being put under federal arrest and ruining her career.

"Nine AM sharp?" she finally repeated.

"Remember, No-Fly Zone and no camping out until eight AM or the interview is cancelled. Beyond that, bring your media friends," Noah told her. "Now leave."

She spun on her heel to face the camera. "There you have it. We have been invited to return tomorrow morning by a man who may or may not be the father of the Face of the Specials. What he and the military have to say on this matter, we'll know more tomorrow morning at nine!" she beamed.

If it hadn't been a live broadcast, Noah would have gladly ordered Rene to wipe all of them and send them on their merry way. Claire was now being called the "Face of the Specials"? When did this happen?

As it stood now, tomorrow morning Maury would either have some cover story ready or reveal the existence of the American Specials to the world. It was going to be a _long_ night, he realized.

Once the cameraman had packed his gear away and brought the van antenna down, he ordered the soldiers to remain until they had left before returning to Maury with Rene and Col. Davis.

"Well, what are we going to tell them tomorrow?"

"We're going public. We don't have any choice in it, now," Maury told them. "I just sent Sally after the packages along with orders we're having a base-wide meeting before supper. These people have to decide if they want to join the public group or not."

"On the bright side, we won't have any unexpected guests showing up when they should be locked up and sedated," Noah mused.

"On the contrary," Davis spoke up. "If whoever took the prisoners is watching TV, this will be all over every station and the internet tonight, if it isn't already. That's just inviting them into our midst, if not a full out attack."

"It's a good thing most of the abilities here are defensive, then, aren't they?" Maury replied.

"Why is that, Mister Director?" Davis inquired.

"Most of the more volatile abilities are wielded by the more volatile personalities," Maury informed him. "In fact, every person here fits a certain personality profile, Colonel, yourself included."

"Really? I thought it was mostly because of my murdered brother," he snarled.

Maury didn't take his bait. "Dismissed. I'll see you at supper. Mandatory." Davis gave a curt salute and left the motor pool. Once he was gone, he turned back to Noah and Rene. "Keep an eye on him. He's planning something," he advised.

"Are you well enough to hold this meeting?" Noah asked.

"Between Peter and Claire, I'm feeling fine, but that damn Doctor Apte seems to have disappeared?" he grumbled. "Can I get someone to release me before my meeting?" he hollered.

The next few hours had the base abuzz with what was going on. Some assumed it was just an update on what happened that afternoon, and who had been injured, who caused it, and the like, but some had let it be known that they were approached by local media afterward.

Nearly everyone was squeezed into the commissary, leaving it standing room only as the base commanders filed into the room. Noah and Maury led the group, with Col. Davis, Audrey Hanson, Rachel Mills, Mohinder Suresh, and several others followed. Immediately following, Sally Schroeder had a stack of paper she pushed in on a cart, leading to buzzing speculation. A few seats near the podium had been reserved for Peter, Matt and Molly, Sanjog, Claire, and recent arrivals Edgar and Sparrow. Several of them made note that Gabriel Gray hadn't been seen but sparingly since the incident. Claire wondered if he wasn't using his shape shifting to blend in, oblivious to the fact this speculation would upset Molly. Matt tried to calm his daughter's fears while Peter and Edgar chided the former cheerleader's loose tongue.

Elsewhere in the room, Upstart and Night Raptor had gotten a bit of lighthearted applause from those they had met that afternoon as they had finally changed out of their costumes. While Dan Walters and Rodney James had become fast friends and were poring over Rodney's various sketchbook schematics, as he explained some more advanced ideas to his fellow mechanic, who couldn't quite keep up with the more computer-based aspects. Near them, Lukas Bahn and Ian Alexander compared notes, Lukas pointing out Molly to his fellow esper and her apparent long range ability versus his short range, while Ian's friend Steven grumbled they had better hurry up as he was starving.

Maury finally called for order and the room mostly quieted with the usual exception of a few whispered conversations slowly dying off. He started the meeting explaining what had happened that afternoon, with Samuel's breakout by Polsky with several others. Several people began eyeing Doyle suspiciously after that, much to his embarrassment for being associated with them. Only a select few knew that Edgar had also come from the carnival group, so he avoided the whispers and 'evil eyes' that those who had been witness to Sullivan's initial disruptive appearance on base and Polsky's seeming dismissal of his actions.

Maury then made it known who had helped try to recapture Sullivan's band and put an end to the battle, singling out Peter, Matt, Doyle, new arrivals Edgar and Sparrow, and a handful of soldiers who were all asked to briefly stand for recognition. A slight majority of the whispers directed toward Doyle were diffused by this, but the doubtful stares remained. He then thanked the rest for standing up to provide assistance where needed during the chaos of the attack.

Bennet took over and explained that in the investigation of the seismic disturbances brought on by Sullivan, a news crew violated the base air space and also sent a van after catching one of the fliers on camera. It was now Michelle Valcek's turn to be embarrassed. Bennet went on to explain that the decision to go public had been made because of this, slightly ahead of plan. Sally (with some volunteer speed help from Edgar) began handing out the papers she had brought in, causing a rising buzz of what the paper contained.

Bennet went on to explain that they needed an initial public squad to present themselves at nine the next morning. Volunteers would be appreciated, but they would understand those who would prefer to remain anonymous. He further explained that they were looking for people from both sides, Specials and regular soldiers, to work in tandem. The papers being handed out would be basic agreements and waivers to sign if they agreed to make the morning appearance, with more extensive paperwork to follow.

Claire literally jumped at the opportunity. "Of course I'll do it!" she beamed, standing on her chair. Noah groaned. Peter and Edgar shook their heads in disbelief as others nearby laughed at her rambunctious outburst. Matt, on the other hand, didn't say a word, but stood, crumpled the paper, threw it at his father, then grabbed Molly by the hand and led her out. Mohinder started to follow, but Noah and Peter held him back.

Nearly the whole room had gone quiet at this. The few who didn't were quickly and quietly passing word to those who were distracted and didn't see it happen.

The crowd went from a hushed silence to accusing looks now directed at Director Parkman, as they realized the connection between the two men, the base Director and the recent arrival who had been kept in solitary. Only a few knew Matt's real reasons, and fewer still the truth behind his recent actions.

"If I could have everyone's attention, please?" Noah called out. "We need to know if you would be willing to be the first public group as soon as possible. Preferably tonight, but definitely by, say, six AM?" he threw a questioning glance to Sally, who nodded. "We do have some preparations in order for this, but we aren't one hundred percent ready on such short notice, not to mention the calamity of the day. Hopefully, that won't be an everyday occurrence," he finished with a slight smirk. "If no one has any questions -_yes, later Claire_- I'll let you go to make your decisions and your dinner. Thank you again, everyone for helping out today and for any decision you make in the next few hours."

As the personnel began to disperse, mostly to get in line for dinner, Noah pulled Edgar aside. "I already called Tracy and told her what we were up to. If anyone back at the carnival is willing to volunteer, they need to be here before six, understand?" he informed the speedster. "I'll have Sally get you some extra forms, but that means you'll have to run them down here, as our remaining teleporter doesn't have that range," he explained, beginning a series of questions Edgar thought his fellow carnival folk would ask. The speedster later left with a bulging packet of forms and a letter addressed to Tracy.

Outside, Mohinder and Maury could see no sign of Matt and Molly in the growing darkness. Maury did a quick mental sweep, but with Matt still blocking him (and likely covering Molly) and nearly the entire base in the commissary, there was nothing to read or look for any "blank spots" in others' minds to try and locate him.

Mohinder used his agility to climb to the roof and looked around for his friend and the foster daughter they shared, but saw no sign. _Right, 'shared',_ he chided himself. _Matthew was right, you sent her away without a word to him, you jealous so-and-so! With all that's happened to him lately, is it any wonder those two cling to each other so much? They were brought together in tragedy and have seen nothing but more tragedy, then I tear them apart without a second thought. She's the last good thing in his life, Mohinder, give them some time alone._

As for Matt, he had found a quiet spot to sit and think things over, assuring Molly he would get her dinner after things had quieted down inside. "I'm sorry, honey, I just needed to get away from in there for a bit, okay?" he consoled her. She nodded and leaned into him, hugging his arm. Matt let his thoughts drift as to what was going to happen to him. He had no idea how long he sat there, five minutes or five hours, until he heard a twig snap nearby. Had he fallen asleep? Molly was. Matt snapped his eyes open to see a moon backed shadow standing over him and his daughter. "Wha-? Who? _You?_"

"Hello, Matt. You look like you need someone to talk to?"

* * *

><p><em>I have heard the sotto voce threats are coming true<em>

_While disenfranchised franchise holders take it all from you_

_Oh. yeah._

_Hit & Run_

_Everybody knows who won_

_You're the chosen son_

_You don't even need a gun_

- "Hit & Run", _The Vanity Project_ by Steven J Page

Next: Meet the Press, plus Betrayal Most Foul

12/21/2012


	16. Ch15 Pressing Matters

HEROES - Volume 6: Brave New World

Chapter 15: Pressing Matters

Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable characters, just playing with Tim Kring's toys.

A/N - show canon; GN semi-canon/references. A couple OCs.

* * *

><p>Six AM came early for Helix Base. Maury Parkman, Noah Bennet, Sally Schroeder, Col. Davis and Audrey Hanson narrowed down the list of volunteers, which was nearly all of the Specials, and soldiers they would be paired with to a manageable number.<p>

Noah yawned and checked his watch. "Any word from Edgar or the Carnival, yet?"

Sally shook her head. "Nothing, so far."

"Are we seriously going to let these people pick their own code names?" Audrey asked, also stifling a yawn.

"For the last time, if they are offering their services, then yes, we are allowing them to have some say in their code names," Maury explained for the third time. "They were also given a choice of basic colors to pick their uniforms from, which, how is Weaver coming along, Sally?"

Sally turned to her laptop and the open chat window. "I've been keeping her up to date on our decisions as we went along. She had basic body and ability stats to work from," she explained.

"I'm sorry, what?" Davis inquired. Audrey shared his confused look.

"Our resident costumer, for lack of a better word," Maury informed them. "We've had her in our employ for several years, supplying uniforms for some of our agents. She's quite good at what she does." He felt no need to add one fact Sally had shared with Matt, that Weaver soaked her creations in bodily fluids to make them more resilient to damage or abilities. Matt had jumped to an erroneous assumption about which fluids, though.

"What are these uniforms going to look like?" he pressed. "Please tell me we're not putting forward a bunch of spandex, like in wrestling or comics?"

Noah chuckled and let Maury answer again. "Previously, we've relied on regular suits, adapted to an agent's specific ability, but now that we're going public, we've borrowed a bit from the superhero movies, using a bit more realistic approach to costumes."

"Oh god. Black leather?" Audrey groaned, visions of a squad of Matrix agents flashed through her head.

Maury laughed at the image in her mind. "Sorry, no, not that outré. Or ridiculous. The uniforms we've had Weaver working on are more like those motorcyclist and race car driver uniforms, only without the gaudy endorsements," he explained.

Hanson and Davis shared incredulous looks. "Oh yeah, that's so much better," she rolled her eyes.

"Short term, yes. We'll adjust them later, if we need to," Noah told her. "We're not exactly putting on a New York or Parisian fashion show runway, here. Keeping it simple. Basic is better. Although some are small revisions on basic military cuts. We already had one common element among all of them, the badge system displaying the ability coding. Truth be told, we still had to come up with a few new ones for this group," he continued.

Maury rose. "You three go grab a quick nap, you're all exhausted. I want you ready to go in two hours." Sally started to rise to go with him.

"What about you two?" Davis asked.

"I don't sleep much, anymore, I'll be fine for this. Ms. Schroeder doesn't sleep much at all, a side effect of her ability," he explained and left the office.

"Seriously?" Davis asked Bennet. "What's his deal?"

Noah was gathering his files to leave. "He's been doing this for far too long. He's been through so much that going public today will be like strolling through the park. Besides, if half the stories I've heard about his generation are true, it's no wonder his code name was Nightmare. As for me, I'm used to thirty-six hour days or longer."

As they left the damaged administration building, the rest of the base was just waking up. Some were eager to face what the day would bring, while others were a bit more reluctant. The growing crowd in the commissary reflected this and Sally was there to take last minute volunteers as well as a few who decided not to participate overnight, updating Weaver as needed. Most of the uniform packages had been delivered by then, although some were reluctant to try them on.

By seven, Edgar had shown up with four volunteers: Monica Dawson, Micah's cousin and muscle mimetic; Norman Littlefeather, Sparrow's 7' cousin and animal communicator; Tracy Strauss, the criokinetic who could become living water; and Ian Michaels, the formerly homeless florokinetic. In truth, Tracy and Ian were specifically requested to attend by Noah Bennet. Tracy partly for her previous political PR experience, to give their speeches one last polish before the presentation.

By eight, most of the squad had assembled in uniform in the motor pool, where the presentation was to take place. The squad of Specials were given their basic briefing of the presentation, which several likened to a school graduation, as they would be announced, allowed to present themselves, give a display of their powers if possible, then quickly exit the stage. The military partners of each one would be their escort through the presentation, as the "One of Us, One of Them" would be explained and today's partnerships could be changed at any time. This would also give the non-powered partners a degree of anonymity the Specials were giving up by going public.

Among the squad, a variety of emotions swept through the group. Upstart and Night Raptor insisted on wearing their own costumes, while a few last minute fussings over various complaints were made by others, from colors to fit. Dan Walters quietly complained that his was bunching in the crotch when not complaining his uniform looked more like a wrestling costume, as his outfit was a modified spandex singlet under a more military style uniform to accommodate his size changing ability. A few others complained about having to wear Bluetooth styled communicators in their ears, as David Berman and Wayne Clark complained they never did like the earbud-styled earphones that hurt their ears, and Daniel Buzzetti made a point that his acid sweat would ruin his before the presentation was halfway over while Alex Woolsy noted his would be useless underwater and Pam Green claimed that hers didn't work with her camouflage ability, either.

Some (Alex and Night Raptor, mostly) were comparing the cut of the military style uniforms to those seen on a the science fiction TV spin-off with the teleporting circle set on the alien water planet, with the various colored shoulder designs designating various subsets of operations. Most were told to grin and bear it for the morning and the various problems would be addressed later.

Peter overheard more than a few discussions (and bets) whether Matt Parkman would even show up, as he had not been seen since he left the meeting last night, although a very tired Molly had been spotted with Mohinder at breakfast. He did a cursory telepathic scan, but couldn't find his friend. Surely Noah would have told him if Matt had left, right? He had seen Violet Walters sitting with Molly and Sanjog in the barracks, the children being kept far from prying eyes of the media. Even the Pine boy was being kept out of the fray, as he was still a minor, much to the boy's dismay.

Meanwhile, the first of the long line of media were being allowed on base, provided they had proper identification and authorizations. Word quickly spread among the incoming press that no one was being allowed on base without at least two picture ID's and double-checking with their local affiliate media, which delayed matters at first. Soon, the base's visitor parking was a mass of media vans and antennas. During the bus ride from the parking to the motor pool stage, they were quickly informed to keep their ID on at all times and not to go into areas without proper escort, lest they lose any further permissions and be escorted off base. They were advised this would include their entire media network, where applicable. They were also to stay away from the damaged area from the previous day, which they would be given a quick tour of, as several areas were still unstable. All media were made to sign waivers attesting to this before they were allowed entrance past the parking lot and read the release again on the bus to the presentation.

It was closer to 9:30 by the time the media was ready and the presentation began with the media seated before the closed doors of the motor pool. Maury Parkman, Noah Bennet, Col. Davis, Audrey Hanson, Cpl. Rachel Mills, Tracy Strauss, and Mohinder Suresh took the stage as Sally Schroeder acted as coordinating director of operations just offstage, with an assist from Lukas Bahn.

"Good Morning, everyone. My name is Maury Parkman and I am currently acting Director of Operations here at Fort Pickett, which we have renamed Fort Helix under the present command." More than a few murmurs ran through the crowd at this, mostly from longtime locals. "Yesterday, there was an incident here that I understand set off seismic detectors hundreds of miles away. In the current rush to have the first report of the story, our airspace was violated by the WATS news crew, who also sent a van to our gate for interviews. Their aerial news team claimed to have seen a flying woman in military clothing even as they took unauthorized and questionably illegal footage of the damage to this base."

More murmurs from the crowd, anxious for the truth, and whether they would actually get it. Maury paused and glanced around the crowd.

"The truth of the matter is, yes, this is a training ground for those persons known as Specials. You have already been aware of such squads recently presented around the world from Russia, China, and other countries, as well as several incidents of private citizens going public with their abilities. I understand Canada will be presenting their team this afternoon, with the UK to follow in the next day or so?"

A rush of questions came from the crowd, but Maury held up a hand for silence.

"The truth of it is, people like this have existed for centuries and I have worked for the last several decades with a group to police those with abilities, which included a man nearly four hundred years old. The world has grown too small to keep quiet on this small section of the global populace forever, and only now do they stand revealed. No, we do not know why these people exist any more than we know why people are born with albinism, form identical twins in the womb, or other genetic variances and even diseases. We don't even have hard evidence that it is genetic, as some display abilities associated with their specific environments. We do know that the capacity for abilities can be passed on to children, although like any genetic trait, it may be recessive and skip a generation or more."

Someone in the front row shouted. "Mr. Parkman, are you admitting to being a Special? What about the rest of your entourage and the base staff?"

Maury held up his hand again as more questions were shouted. "The Company I have worked for had a basic working policy, 'One of Us, One of Them', in our research and other activities. Most of those with abilities were as interested in finding out why they were different as those without. It's only in the last few decades that we have made any headway along with other medical advances, yet we still have no answers to give as to why."

Another shouted question. "Mr. Parkman, what do you mean by 'other activities'? Are you incarcerating Specials?"

Maury glanced to Noah for a moment. "I won't lie to you. There are times when we have had to take action in regards to policing those with abilities. Whether that meant treating them as any other criminal or even helping those with more volatile abilities to master them, we took each incident as a separate matter, case by case. This did sometimes included incarceration, as we did with our 400 year old associate, or other measures, as needed. We did not treat anyone lightly. In fact, most of those we did manage to identify as having abilities possessed minor abilities. Some weren't even aware they had them, or were able to keep them secret from friends and family, even after we approached them."

"Does this mean you have taken it upon yourselves to act as judge, jury, and executioner?" one person shouted. Another demanded to know "Are you saying that some noted historical people may have had abilities, like Beethoven, Einstein, da Vinci, Tesla, or even Shakespeare?" was quickly followed by "What about Jesus Christ?"

Maury held up his hand for quiet again. "Please, may I have a bit more decorum? I can _not_ speculate on any historical people and whether they may or _may not_ have possessed abilities which helped establish them or their place in history. We only have records of two people with time travel abilities, one kept a quiet life and is now deceased, having died an old man a few decades after he was born. The other is currently missing after suffering some health problems that we cannot confirm as being a result of his ability. Even if we were willing to send them back in time to investigate anyone, we wouldn't want to upset history with confirmation or denial of any discovery we did make.

"As for the other question, yes, we have had to police ourselves on occasion, and as I said, had to act as judge and jury in each case where a volatile ability or personality called for our intervention. There have even been a few cases where, in the act of preserving lives, death has been the result. Those incidents have thankfully been few and far between. The seismic incident yesterday was the result of quartering one of those individuals here where a secondary ability allowed him to draw power off the presence of other Specials. Thankfully, no one was seriously injured during yesterday's incident. We are currently looking into preventing a future incident like that."

"Was the death of Senator Petrelli one of those incidents?" someone called out.

Maury hesitated a moment in front of the media. In actuality, he was telepathically asking Peter for permission to reveal the real circumstances of his brother's death, or as close as he could. "In the interest of full disclosure, yes, Senator Petrelli was slain while assisting in the apprehension of one of the more volatile people with abilities and attempting to assist in a direct threat to the President of the United States at that moment in time."

More murmurs from the crowd. "Are you saying that the President is fully aware of Specials? How long has the government been aware?" were the two most asked questions.

"Yes, the current President was made aware of the then threat to his person, and thankfully, we did manage to avert that threat at the cost of several lives, including Senator Petrelli. Even I do not have full clearance as to how long and which administrations were aware of Specials." He thought it best to keep the existence of the Building 26 and Coyote Sands incidents secret, for now. "We have only recently found it necessary to form a working relationship with the government, as represented here by our FBI Liaison, Agent Hanson," he motioned to Audrey, who stood up followed by the other two as they were introduced. "As well as our two present military liaisons, Col. Davis and Cpl. Mills. We are still working out the finer details of our arrangements, but we are requesting that we not be treated as a military force to be sent into war zones and such."

"What about Congress and the President? Was Senator Petrelli acting on behalf of Specials while he was in office?"

"It is my understanding that Senator Petrelli hid his ability from even his closest family members, and only used his ability of flight on a few rare occasions. No, he was not elected to push for any sort of special rights programs or other hidden agenda that I am aware of." He sensed the next question before it could be asked. "Yes, he was elected as fairly as anyone else during his campaign with no special favors or ballot rigging, as far as his family has made me aware of," he lied. He half expected Gray to pop up and refute this. "I understand his mother will be releasing a statement on her late son, shortly. I ask that you please respect her privacy and stop camping outside of her home."

"You mentioned the person responsible for yesterday had a 'secondary ability'? Are there many like that, or is it one per person?"

"The majority of Specials seem to have one ability. They have often found secondary uses that were not immediately obvious or apparent to others. A few select individuals have shown the capacity to bear multiple abilities, however. We have also counseled those who are harmed by their own abilities, as there is no guarantee that their body can withstand the rigor an ability can place on them. As I stated previously, our lone time traveler is presently suffering side effects possibly caused by his ability. There have been many others like him who experienced side effects from their abilities, so it isn't all like in the comics."

"Where are Miss Bennet and Sen. Petrelli's brother? Are you related to the other Parkman who appeared with them on _ANDY_?"

Maury had pushed this first question into one of the reporters to move things along, but didn't expect the follow-up about Matt. He glanced to Noah, who nodded his assent for the presentation.

"Again, in the interest of fullest possible disclosure, yes, I am the father of Matt Parkman. No, I do not believe my son, a police officer for over a decade and recently promoted to Detective, murdered or otherwise harmed his wife. The other charges against him were brought while acting undercover for the greater public good. It was my understanding that at least several were dismissed when the late Senator Petrelli revealed Matt was trying to flush out another terrorist plot. My heart goes out to my son and my late daughter-in-law's family at this time in their grieving, and I ask you respect their privacy." he motioned offstage to Sally. "As for his friends-"

"What about the missing child? Your grandson? Is he dead or alive?"

Maury turned to face the inquisitor. "Again, I am not going to talk about my grandson at this time to preserve my family's privacy. I will take no further questions on this matter."

Noah took over at the podium, relieving Maury of the more personal inquiries. "Hello, as some of you may have guessed, I am Noah Bennet, who appeared with my daughter and her associates on TV. You asked where my daughter and her uncle are, well, they and the first faces that have volunteered to step forward as America's Specials are right behind us, waiting for their debut. Some people training here have opted not to make a public debut for various reasons, which is part of the reason you were kept in the dark. As Director Parkman stated, most people, we have found, want to live quietly, but have opted to take part in training to better control their abilities. Those here today, are willing to step forward and declare who they are, and most will be using code names in public operations if called upon, although a few are willing to go fully public to show they have nothing to hide and the general public have nothing to fear from them and others like them. There is no reason to fear them or anything else just because they were gifted with abilities. In fact, several of the representatives on the dais have abilities, as well." He motioned to Mohinder, Tracy, and Rachel to rise. "I'll ask that you save any of your further questions until after. We'll see if any of our Specials want to share more information or not. First up, we have Dr. Mohinder Suresh."

Mohinder waved to the crowd, some of whom demanded he show off his ability. Glancing to Noah, who shrugged, Mohinder shucked his suit jacket and tie and did a standing back flip to the top of the stage, treating the overhead lighting scaffolding like a balance beam as he crossed it and holding himself up by one finger for a moment before flipping back down. There was scattered polite applause. "I'm sorry it's not much, but I prefer to stay in the lab with my scientific research," he mused into the podium microphone.

Noah stepped back to the podium. "Next we have Cpl. Mills." Rachel stepped forward saluted the crowd, then disapparated to numerous gasps, appearing at each end of the stage as well as the center aisle of the media audience before returning to the dais once more. Startled yelps turned into polite applause.

"And helping out with our PR today, we have Tracy Strauss. Tracy?" he presented. The blonde woman waved to the audience, freezing the water vapor in front of her into snow, which wasn't too visible, causing her to frown. Even the closest reporters barely felt the temperature change or saw the snow. Trying another tactic, she held her hands out in front of her. Slowly, an ice sculpture rose from the ground in front of the stage forming a solid block of ice steps. Holding her hand out for Noah's assistance onto them, she calmly strode down to the ground and held out her hands, creating an ice rose for the reporters to see. She even let a few feel her hands were still warm. "I think that's all you need to see, excuse me," she said and exited to the rear of the stage. She still didn't like showing off and would let Bennet hear it later about presenting her as part of today's display. His letter had another reason for her attendance here which had three words that intrigued her more, but that was still to come.

The audience seeing that there was no one else to show off, as Col. Davis sat still, arms crossed, started demanding to see Claire. Maury and Agent Hanson had similar nonplussed expressions as Davis. Noah held up his hands for them to quiet once more.

"Now, as they say, here comes the Big Reveal." He motioned them to the large doors of the motor pool which now began to open. Behind it stood a squad of people in various uniforms and what appeared to be a large robot. Three people took to the air, two men and a black woman. The cameramen all vied for the best shots of the group, noting Claire was posing front and center.

"Now, we don't have any fancy names to call this group yet, or any subset thereof, but here we go down my list. Our three fliers now overhead are Michelle Valcek, who was the woman spotted by the local news chopper yesterday. She is accompanied by West Rosen and Wayne Clark." All three wore what appeared to be dark blue leather bodysuits with what appeared to be a US Air Force wing design across their chests, and motorcycle helmets. "Their helmets are mostly for communication, as well as keeping bugs out of their eyes and mouths while in flight," Noah quipped to a smattering of chuckles.

"The more grounded of our squad, some you may recognize. My daughter Claire, whose biological father was the late Senator Petrelli, and her uncle, Peter." The pair stepped forward and waved. Her uniform resembled her old cheerleading outfit from Union Wells, with a white torso and boots with red arms and pants. On her chest was a large yellow target with a broken heart at the center. Her name, **CLAIRE!**, was plastered above the target, across her back, and down each sleeve and leg. On both her shoulders and around her chest badge was a "**C!**"

Peter wore a blue uniform with black collar, boots, gloves, and belt buckle (the belt hidden in the top hem of the pants), accented by bluer padding for his knees, hips, and elbows. On his chest, he wore a badge with a caduceus on a thick red plus sign in a white circle, hinting at his previous nursing job.

On their shoulders, as was everybody else's, was a circular badge with the S-helix design once adorning his father's law firm as well as being the sigil of Adam Monroe when he had been Kensei Tekezo 400 years previous in Japan.

"No, Claire will _not_ be staging _any accidents_ today for your cameras," Noah stated in his sternest voice. "We don't want to scare any children who may be watching or incur the wrath of the FCC for any breaking of their standards."

Claire turned and nodded at Peter. He begrudgingly lifted her with TK onto one hand, then tossed her up higher, catching her by the foot and holding her above his head with one hand before lifting himself off the ground and motioning to David Berman, who telekinetically juggled a handful of tools with Peter. Berman's uniform was, like most of the rest, similar to Peter's, only in gray instead of blue, with a 'T' on his badge.

"Showing off with Mr. Petrelli is David Berman," Noah explained to the media. "I understand that Claire will be using the codename "_**Clar**_ion" and, no- wait- sorry, she changed it to 'Nightingale'. Sorry folks, a small _**cler**_ical error," he groaned with the audience, "and Peter has chosen, 'Shift'? Mr. Berman has not settled on one at present." He glanced at both men to see if they nodded confirmation or not.

In the barracks, Molly and Sanjog giggled at the televised antics of Peter and Berman juggling without touching anything. She pointed at the next two in costume. "Who's that?" she demanded. Violet shrugged as she looked for her father among the crowd. Matt stood silently behind the trio on the couch, watching intently, then returned to his room.

"Up next, we have two recent recruits from Chicago, where they stopped a bank robbery in their debut appearance, Upstart and Night Raptor," he announced, the pair stepping forward. Upstart waved to the crowd as his partner stepped up and joined the trio already airborne. "For those familiar with their debut in Chicago, the third person assisting in that arrest has chosen not to go public at this time."

The next man stepped forward, his uniform already looking worn. "Daniel Buzzetti, who will be going by, uh, Scuzz?" The Italian motioned for Berman to throw him one of the wrenches, which he immediately began dissolving in his hands for the cameras. Noah could only shake his head.

"Next, we have Sparrow Redhouse and Norman Littlefeather," he informed the media as the cousins floated forward on a small boulder, Norman sitting at the front edge. Sparrow's uniform was in light brown, with a bit of fringe, hinting at a western look to go with her Indian heritage, while Norman still wore his own clothes, a denim vest over a white t-shirt and jeans, as there was no time to modify any available clothing on base to his larger frame that morning. "Hi, I can talk to animals," Norman greeted them, somewhat camera shy. Behind him, Sparrow groaned and shook her head. "What? Everybody sees I'm tall and have muscles, and assumes super strong!"

Moving her floating stone aside for the next grouping, Sparrow smacked him in the back of the head. "It's okay, she's allowed. They're cousins," Noah informed the media who caught her action on camera. "Miss Redhouse was also instrumental in assisting yesterday, but she was not the source of the tremors." Noah spotted Edgar trying to sneak out of the building before he was noticed. "Also assisting yesterday was Edgar Rice, who has adopted the codename 'Slice'. Edgar?"

The speedster had pockets on his olive green leather uniform for his knives. He pulled two of them out and walked over to the ice steps Tracy had left and were beginning to melt. "Peter?" he called out, motioning to the steps. Peter helped him move them forward a bit before letting Edgar pull on his running goggles and get to work. In less than a minute, the audience barely keeping up, he carved an intricate sculpture out of the steps before the unblinking eye of the cameras. "hmm, not bad," he said. "I don't get to practice much," he admitted before speeding off out of the way for the next members of the squad.

Another pair stepped up. "Life, like art, can be fleeting," one said and waves of heat filled the air as the sculpture melted into the ground. His uniform was reflective silver with red accents and piping, as well as a badge with a fireball. He held out his hand and a ball of fire erupted to surprised gasps.

The other man then intoned, "But life always finds a way to go on." He was in street clothes as he knelt by the growing puddle. A small bush suddenly sprouted out of the ground, breaking through the tarmac.

"Our resident pyrokinetic, Dan Page, and florokinetic, Ian Michaels, ladies and gentlemen," Bennet introduced them. "That means Dan makes fire and Ian makes plants grow, folks," he clarified, glancing to who was next.

"Up next, we have Pam Green aka Camo, and our sole naval recruit to our three aerial recruits, Alex Woolsy, who requests to be called, uh, 'Sea Man'? Sorry, 'Sea _King_'? Again, not all code names are final," Noah sighed. He was silently glad that Alex and Night Raptor hadn't had time to compare notes or comic collections, yet. Pam waved to the crowd, her mirror badge shimmered as most of the rest of her disappeared from sight as she went. Most could still see the ripple of her movement as she moved, however. A few reporters could be heard comparing her to the Schwarzenegger alien bounty hunter movie and it's less than thrilling sequels. (Although the first crossover was decent.)

Alex wore a sleeveless Olympic swimming wetsuit and a jacket. His badge showed a wave of water. "I'd show off, but I'd need a pool," he informed the press, which got a few "lame!" and "next!" catcalls from the more derisive of the press crowd. Someone asked "Can you control water?", but Alex had to shake his head no, glumly, before leaving.

Noah pressed on. "Next, we have Jimmy Smith, Steven Elliot, and Ian Alexander, or, uh, _Stick, Chance_, and _Sensor_?" Steven and Ian merely waved, wearing the more military style uniforms, while Jimmy wore the basic bodysuit as Peter and others. Steven's badge had three sides of a die on it, with various gambling markings instead of the usual pips. Ian's bore the Greek letter psi, while Jimmy's bore an angled ladder. Smith showed off, creating two poles and displaying them like escrima fighting sticks before elongating them into longer poles and walking off on them like stilts.

"Next we have John Parker, Juan Garcia, and Tim Moreau," he announced as the Georgian and Puerto Rican strongmen stepped forward with the invulnerable black man. John and Juan wore matching basic sleeveless black and grey uniforms with the same badge of a muscled arm, with Juan's additional native Puerto Rican flag badge. They reluctantly did a few 'muscleman' poses for the benefit of the cameras before making room for their associate.

"Tim would like to be called...um, 'Redshirt'?" Noah sighed again as Moreau, in his red jacket and black pants and boots, motioned to Dan, who hurled a fireball at him, barely singeing his jacket. Jimmy smacked him on the head with his poles before Dan lit the ends and Tim held his hand in the flame a moment before closing his fist around it, extinguishing it. "What, you don't think they gonna send the invulnerable brotha in first on the front lines? Might as well have some fun with this, y'all!" he joked before flashing the Vulcan salute. "Trekkie for life, yo!"

"Again, not all code names are final," Noah reminded the few amused in the crowd. "Last but not least, we have the final two members of our squad. Dan Walters has asked to be called Pulsar, while Rodney James is inside one of his creations, the armored Construct."

The ten foot robot that had been waiting it's turn clanked forward, along with Dan at his side, control padd in hand. Three smaller robots followed behind the larger one, all three were obviously made of random military scrap from the base. Once more, the turret helmet popped open and an enthusiastic Rodney popped his head out. "Hey, everybody!" he greeted, wiggling a hand free from inside to wave.

Dan just seemed to be embarrassed by being there, already questioning his decision to go public. Back in the barracks, his daughter beamed proudly, hugging Molly excitedly. She thought her father looked handsome in his black uniform, but didn't get why his badge was a down-pointing triangle with lines. They were distracted by the door slamming behind them. Molly stared at it in concern.

"There you have it, folks, the American team of 'Specials'," Noah declared as the squad regrouped to pose for the cameras, Claire front and center, once more. "Like I said, we have no formal name, and I obviously hesitate to call them our 'Special Forces' so as not to take away from the official military group using that name."

"What do some of them do, like that last guy?" someone shouted. "Does Pulsar mean he has solar powers?"

"As I stated before, not all of them have flashy abilities, like our strongmen or swimmer, so they can't show off like some of the others," he replied. "Next, I'd like to-"

"Are they all mutants? Are you a mutant?"

"Um, no, we're not using the M-word. Mostly to avoid lawsuits from one publisher and their current mega-corporation parent company in particular," he said with a slight smirk before clarifying further. "We've been using the term 'enhanced human' previously, but the press has picked up the term 'Specials' for our friends, here," he explained. "No, I am not in possession of any abilities, nor have I ever been. I was one of the top field agents in the former Company investigating Specials, which is part of the reason I was chosen to adopt Claire when-"

"Hold up a minute!" came a voice from the side. Approaching them appeared to be a man in SWAT type gear, his face hidden by his helmet's face shield. He made his way onto the stage and Noah reluctantly gave up the podium to him. Some would later argue that he all but pushed Bennet out of the way.

"You don't have to do this," Bennet hissed away from the microphone. A few others reacted as well. Dan Walters echoed Bennet's "don't do this!" sentiment from offstage. Peter and Claire moved onto the stage from the other side and Maury rose to confront the newcomer.

"I do, and _you_ sit back down, old man," he said before turning to the podium. "I really didn't want to be here today, as will be obvious in a minute," he announced. "They wanted me to help out. Repeatedly. I just wanted to live my life, my _ordinary_ life, but that was apparently never in the cards for me. Dealing with this Company nearly cost me my marriage and career, and when I thought I had my old life back, they were torn away once more. Now? I can't go back to my old life, my wife was killed, our son taken by persons unknown. I just want to let the people who took him know: I am coming for him. If it is the last thing I do, I will have my son back."

Several of the more quick witted reporters realized who was speaking. The man ignored their questions.

"I was brought here and held in solitary confinement 'for my own sake' by my father. Others here today tried to break me out, not even knowing who I was. _He_ stopped them," he pointed at Maury. "I had to trick someone else into releasing me from the cell I was held in and I was still denied release from this base. This old man's plan was to have me help lead this squad as 'Dispatch'. That's never going to happen." He began removing his helmet. "My name is Matt Parkman. My life has been repeatedly ruined because of this farce and now I stand accused as a...as a wife killer and traitor to my country." He choked up a bit admitting this last. "I am neither. I have nothing to hide from any of you. There should be no reason for the masks or helmets hiding our faces," he said, looking pointedly at the pair from Chicago and the trio of fliers. They got the hint and revealed their faces to the press. Even Edgar pushed up his new running goggles.

Maury pushed him away from the podium. "Matt, what do you think you're doing?"

"_I'm making a stand_!" he shouted. "You _know_ where they're hiding my son and you _still_ refuse to let me go _rescue_ him!"

"_You know why_!" he hissed.

"Yeah, because Angela says I'm going to die! I don't care anymore!" he shouted. "Too many have already died because of you people! Janice, Nathan, Ted, Daphne, how many others? You almost died not twenty feet from this spot _yesterday_, poisoned and torn up! You're only standing here right now because of Peter and Claire! Did you ever even _thank_ them? _Did you_?!"

Below them, the reporters looked on incredulous at this father-son argument. Peter and Noah now flanked Matt, trying to pull him away, but he refused. He even saw Dan Walters shaking his head 'no' at the other end of the stage. Their previous talk the night before seemingly now a waste of time.

Matt turned back to his father. "Not to mention your 'ace in the hole' here, the man just as responsible for tearing my life apart as you are," he accused. The threat of exposing his presence on the base hung in the air. "The man who raped my wife and pushed me to suicide. The man who killed so many, including the parents of a little girl, while she hid in a closet. The brother of one of your lieutenants. At least _one_ of your Company friends? I know what he did, dad. He was in my head for months! I still have nightmares about what I saw in his mind!"

"Please tell me we are getting this all on tape?" one of the reporters asked their cameraman.

"It's all live," he whispered back. "This is going global!"

"Yeah, this _is_ global isn't it?" Matt answered the man, taking him by surprise that he heard a whisper from fifteen feet away. "A goddamn global _conspiracy_ keeping people like us down and hidden away! Isn't that right?"

"Matt, please. Shut. Up." Noah hissed.

"You shut your mouth, boy," Maury ordered. "You don't know a damn thing!"

To either side of him, Noah and Peter froze for a moment, unable to move, allowing Matt to pull free. By the time they could move, Matt had already decked his father with his helmet. Col. Davis barely moved as Maury fell at his feet. Audrey had sat silent, but she rose to confront Matt now.

"Don't do this, Matt," she warned. "We're trying to build something here."

"What? More lies?" he accused. "Anything built on a web of lies is doomed to collapse. I wouldn't be surprised if they decided to lock us all up again."

The reporters suddenly found four words in their minds: _Coyote Sands_, _Building 26_. Dumbfounded stares spread among them.

Peter grabbed Matt's arm. "Come on, man, there was no need for this."

"Wasn't there, Pete? Why don't you ask Nathan?" he countered before grabbing the microphone once more. "Dead man walking, here. _Do not forget this_. Not this day or whatever comes next. I know I won't live to see how it turns out." With that, he left the stage and headed back to the barracks, leaving the crowd of reporters and Specials to ponder what just happened. Noah, Peter, and Walters gave chase.

* * *

><p>Elsewhere on the base, in the back of a conference room, Gabriel Gray frowned at the nearby spectacle taking place on their television screen. He had his orders on what to do next, as did the other four in the room. In fact, he had just returned from recruiting another friend during the introductions.<p>

* * *

><p>Watching from his headquarters in a former British military base, Austin smiled. "Oh, it is so <em>on<em>," he gloated. He pointed at the image of Matt Parkman on his screen and dropped his thumb. "Dead man walking indeed."

The man's mobile buzzed in his pocket.

"You saw? How long until we move? Understood, sir. We'll be ready to move whenever you give the word."

Closing the phone, he glanced to the photo on his desk. "After all these years, my vengeance is at hand," he toasted the picture with his drink. "You will be avenged," he said to the picture of himself and his father flanking his late bride. He knew the statement was a bit of melodramatic smarm, but it was fun to play the villain. The photo was the last happy day he had known.

She would be dead within hours, killed in the back seat of their limo, and Austin Linderman's life changed when his father Daniel returned to his son and healed his otherwise mortal wounds that fateful night, revealing his true legacy. He still remembered her last words to him and the taste of her when the car suddenly jerked and they found themselves momentarily weightless, before gravity returned and-

He pushed the final image of her from his mind once more. That beautiful white dress stained forever crimson. The confusion in her eyes before her life left them. Her hand just out of reach of his. Their lives together over before it had begun. His father had been moments away from boarding his return flight at Heathrow to New York when he got the call. The limo driver and his new bride were dead at the scene, the trauma doctor already questioning how Austin could still be alive as they contacted his father. The long conversation that followed left him numb for weeks after. He barely remembered her funeral, where his father insisted he wear fake bandages even as he informed their new in-laws that Austin had been thrown clear in the "hit and run" cover story.

His life was meant to change that day, two words exchanged before an audience and two more in private, but what he expected and what reality had planned for him were two different things, entirely. He now knew it had been no accident, and he knew who was responsible. Now it was time for them to pay, to suffer as he had suffered.

* * *

><p>Joshua Carpenter watched the news reports with great interest, occasionally glancing to his wife. Her reaction on seeing her twin on screen had her in tears. She even reached out for the other woman, as if she were present in their home. His anger grew. By the time Matt revealed himself, the 'good' reverend was furious. He grabbed the remote and, fighting the urge to pitch it through the screen, turned off the TV.<p>

"Did you hear that? They are coming for our children," he told her. "They are stealing out children away from us."

She sat there, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Don't you have anything to say for yourself?" he demanded.

She jumped at his outburst, then quietly said, "Micah is my nephew."

"The mulatto? The half-breed? The _mongrel?_" he accused. "I should kill him right now!"

"_No!_ No! He's all I have left of my sister!" she begged.

"Your sister was a _whore_! You saw her so-called website, taking her clothes off for money!" he reminded her, then pointed at the dark screen. "And that one, she worked in the bowels of hell, itself, whoring her way through wretched old men, the rich scum of DC and New York City for money! You should be glad I saved you from a similar fate on the streets where I found you!"

She struggled to say something, her lips trembling, before finally blurting, "Y-Yes, Joshua. F-forgive me for doubting you. I-I apologize."

He drew back his hand as if to hit her, but thought better of it and pointed out of the room. "Go do your penance."

She gave him a brief nod and all but ran from the room. He stared after her, seething with impotent rage.

"Am I interrupting something?" came a velvet voice behind him.

Carpenter turned and saw his bronze skinned benefactor before him. "I-I...no, sir," he mumbled, the rage falling away in embarrassment.

"I take it you saw the news? I hear it's on all the channels."

"I...yes, sir. We saw."

"And what did she think of her dear triplet- sorry, _twin _sister?"

"S-She imagines a kinship that is not there. With the boy as well."

"Most unfortunate," he mused. "Will she still be able to do what needs be done?"

"She will."

"I hope so. I would hate to have Miss Fatale coerce her because you couldn't. It's such an effort for to sway women, especially one with telepathic abilities like your wife."

"She knows her role," he seethed, reminded of her power he lacked. He had only kept her in check this long because of his dominance over her.

"If she doesn't, I will feed her to Samuel's pet Savage myself. Tell Samson to expect my signal shortly. They won't be long now." He strolled behind the other man.

"I will," he replied, then quickly added. "About our arrangement? When will I receive my, um, my _payment_?"

"You mean your own power?" he asked dismissively in Carpenter's ear, casually picking a non-existent piece of lint from the other man's lapel. "Power to rival your wife's? Rival to those you just saw on the TV?" Carpenter gave a slight nod. "Survive the wrath of Matt Parkman and you will have what you deserve."

"You _promised_-!" he blurted, barely catching his anger.

"I am well aware of what I told you, Joshua," he warned.

Carpenter bowed his head in obeisance. "Yes, sir." When he lifted his head a moment later, he was alone once more.

* * *

><p><strong>Helix Base, Georgia<strong>

Dan Walters followed Noah Bennet and Peter Petrelli into the barracks in pursuit of Matt Parkman. "Parkman, what the he-" Noah started before spying the children watching the press conference in the room. Matt sat at a table behind their couch, his back to the door, facing the TV.

"Violet, honey, would you please take the other kids upstairs? The adults need to talk," Dan asked his daughter. She saw the look on Bennet's and Parkman's faces and quickly ushered Molly and Sanjog upstairs. William Pine lingered long enough to see Bennet's angry face before following.

"I thought you were over this, Matt?" Noah asked.

Silence.

"What about what we talked about last night?" Dan inquired. Matt turned his head a fraction, but still refused to turn around.

Peter sat down at the table across from his friend, but didn't say anything. The other two followed suit in the other empty chairs. Matt seemed to be in his own world, not making eye contact with anyone.

"You know, I talked to Rodney right after," Dan said. "What I thought what we had was at least a two hour conversation, yet Rodney tells me I had left the mess hall barely ten minutes earlier. That another one of your tricks, psychic speed conversations?"

Noah and Peter shared an inquisitive look. "Matt? Please talk to us," Petrelli begged.

Matt finally looked up at his friend. "You have no clue, Pete. Your family was never torn from you until recently. At least Dan has an excuse with never knowing he had a kid until years later." He looked at Noah. "What about you, Bennet? What would you do for your kids? What if someone stole them and killed your wife to do it? Sorry, _ex_-wife?"

"My kids?"

"Your precious Claire and whatsisface down in lock up? Did you even bother to see if he was okay after Sullivan's stunt, yesterday?"

Noah glanced to Peter before turning back to Matt. "What are you talking about?"

"Your obsession with Claire is just borderline creepy. At least you aren't related by blood to make it even creepier."

Bennet was grim-faced. Peter turned away a moment, recalling her initial crush on him before they realized their real relation.

"Then again, I was in your house. Barely any pictures of your kids, but the place was practically a shrine to that puffball dog," he accused.

"Hey! You don't diss Mr. Muggles," Bennet warned. "And what do you mean, _kids_, plural?"

Now it was Matt and Peter's turn to look at him in confusion. "Claire's brother? Lyle? You said he was brought in and my dad went to talk to him right before Sullivan broke out?" Matt explained.

Noah was dumbfounded. "I don't have a son? I mean, not for lack of _trying_, but having a natural child wasn't in the cards for us." There was a quiet sadness about the way he said it that was more honest than his other denials.

"Then who was that blond kid with you when Ted and I came to your house? Your wife sure seems to have thought he was yours?"

"Matt, I don't have a son, only Claire and Mr. Muggles?"

"Let's see your wallet, Noah," Peter urged.

"What? Why?"

"Don't you carry pics of your kids in your wallet?" Dan asked, curious as to what was going on. "I've got _two_ of Violet, and I've only known her less than a year."

"No. Company policy, carry as little personal effects at all times, starting with family photos," he explained, pulling his wallet out as requested and showed them the contents. "Actual ID, fake ID, Company credit cards, PrimaTech business cards (and Copy King, both of which I should have thrown out), and a bit of cash. No pictures."

"What if we were to call Sandra?" Peter asked. "Or ask Claire? Would they know who Lyle was?"

"I don't know? I certainly have no clue who you guys are talking about?" he explained, starting to lose his cool. "This shouldn't even be about me. Matt, you're the one who bungled the presentation out there!"

"Everybody settle down and let's start from the beginning," Dan urged. "Mr. Bennet, how many in your family?"

"Including the dog? Four."

Dan saw Matt and Peter exchange looks again. "Fine. Including the 'fur baby'. Name them."

"Me, Sandra, Claire, Mr. Muggles."

"No one else?"

"Both our parents are dead, and unless you want me to include Claire's biological family, her mother Meredith and _her_ late brother Flint, and the Petrelli's?" He hooked a thumb at Peter.

Matt shook his head. "No. There's also Lyle. Rude, blond, I think he played football?"

"Do you mean Claire's friend Zach? I don't think he was into sports?"

"Okay, Peter, give Claire a mental shout. Noah, I'm going to compare my memory of my visit to your home with Ted to yours," Matt decided.

Peter concentrated a moment. "She's on her way." He opened his eyes to see they were now in a typical suburban home.

Several shelves of awards and photos lined the wall. An older, nervous looking blonde woman sat on the couch with a teenaged boy. Noah was now tied to a chair and speaking Japanese. Matt held a gun on Claire as a disheveled man was losing his temper and glowing.

"Who is everybody here?" Matt urged Bennet.

"You and Ted, me, Claire, Sandra, Mr. Muggles," he said. The Pomeranian came bounding through the room and leapt onto Sandra's lap.

"Who's sitting next to your wife?"

Noah looked over to the couch. "...Mr. Muggles?"

"Seriously? You can't see him?" Matt asked. He pushed into Bennet's head. "This is how I remember it, how do you-?"

The boy began flickering. Matt looked to Peter. "My memories and his don't match? How is that possible, especially since he saw the kid almost every day? Including yesterday?"

"What's going on?" a second Claire asked.

Matt turned to her and included her in the projection. "Who's on the couch with your mom? Not the dog."

She looked at her mother, started to open her mouth, "I...I only see her and Muggles?" It was obvious she was having trouble registering Lyle's presence in Matt's memory.

"Who's Lyle?" Peter asked of her, hoping she would remember.

She gave him an odd look. "I have no clue? Who names their kid Lyle these days, anyhow?"

"Your parents for one."

"So this kid has been wiped from the minds of those closest to him?" Dan asked, pointing at the teen in the projection.

Matt shook his head. "No. My dad went down to talk to him yesterday, just before we saw you, right before Sullivan's attack."

Peter stood up. "Claire, who did you come here with? Who brought you to the base?"

She gave him a look of disbelief. "Rene, why? He cancelled my appearance on _ANDY_ and brought me here. With Doyle." Even this sounded wrong to her as she said it.

"No one else was with you?"

"A couple other guards, but I didn't ask their names. I guess one could have been this Lyle?" she shrugged.

"Do you remember the whole trip?" Dan asked.

"Yeah, I...no, wait, I mean, what?"

"How many other telepaths you got here?" Dan asked Noah.

"The two Parkmans, and I'm guessing Peter-? Rene can erase memories, but not as deep as you're implying, not without leaving me a vegetable. That should be it?" he said, counting off on his fingers.

"What about the Indian kid? The, what is he, a dream walker? Could he wipe out the entire memory of a family member like this?" Matt asked, pointing upstairs where the boy in question went with the girls.

"What family member?" Claire asked.

"Your brother Lyle," Peter told her.

"I have a brother?" she asked incredulous. "I thought it was just Nathan's other sons, Monty and, umm-?"

"Simon." Peter stared at her in disbelief. "Really, Claire? Your own brothers?"

"It's not like you ever told them who I really am," she retorted. "Actually, that's more Heidi keeping us separated than you or Nathan, isn't it?" Peter shook his head in disbelief, not wanting to derail the conversation further.

Noah ignored her to answer Matt. "Not possible. Not even Rene could wipe out a memory so thoroughly."

"What about my dad? Or Sylar. He could have copied mine while he was in my head, couldn't he?"

"_Gabriel_ already gave us a list of his current abilities, _voluntarily_, which did not include telepathy from you or your father," Noah informed them. "As for your father? You better hope you didn't hit him that hard to erase what he did yesterday," he warned.

"There is another possibility," Dan spoke up. "Two, actually. Your dad said in the press conference there was a missing time traveler? What if he accidentally erased this kid from history? Like he never existed, or at least, never existed as one of your kids?"

Noah shook his head. "Impossible. I would remember Sandra giving birth to him. Her body would show her pregnancy scars, stretch marks. They don't exist. I'd remember that, at least."

Matt gave him a curious look. Something about the way he said it meant Noah was doubting part of what he was saying, or at least questioning it. Janice had been the only mother he'd been intimate with, and she had a few stretch marks after Matty, but they lived in LA where all the starlets had various cosmetics to hide such blemishes. "Why would a Texas housewife feel the need to still cover her marks for her husband over fifteen years after the fact?" he asked. "Then why would Peter and I still remember him?"

"The time ripples from his removal haven't reached us yet?" Peter offered.

"All good points," Dan noted. "The other possibility is this kid has a power now, too, and wiped his existence from the minds of his family." The other four looked at each other as if it should have been obvious from the start.

Noah pulled out his phone. "Sally, I need any and all visual recordings yesterday prior to and concerning Sullivan's attack, and any paperwork on my family. Also, have Maury meet us here in the barracks, ASAP!"

He hung up and dialed another number. "Sandra? Quick favor. What do the kids' rooms look like?"

Matt concentrated and allowed the others to hear her reply as soon as Noah did. "Really, Noah? Like I don't have better things to do?" she complained. They could hear yips in the background from Muggles and another dog.

Claire briefly wondered if it was the same bitch from last Thanksgiving before she leaned down to her father. "Tell Mr. Muggles I said hi, mom!"

"Oh sure, but you can't call your mother to tell her you're both going to be on TV?" she chided. Claire put on her hurt Miss Innocent face and grimaced to the others. "Are you getting any sleep, Noah? You looked exhausted, not that I should care, anymore. I'm not liking the costume, either, Claire! We'll talk about that later, though. Your room looks like it did when you left. Messy."

"And what about the other bedroom?" Noah asked.

"What the guest room? Hang on?" she said, pausing for a few seconds before continuing. "Noah, have you been sneaking in here?" she accused.

He raised an eyebrow. "Why? What do you see?"

"A very messy room. I don't even know why I- huh."

"What? What's wrong?"

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say this looks like some _teenage_ boy's room? I thought for a second you were crashing here without me knowing about it?" she paused. "There's even mail here on the desk addressed to a _Lyle Butler?_ Is that one of your cover identities, Noah?"

Noah ignored the strange looks from the others. "Sandra? I need you to do one more thing. Go look at a family photo. Tell me who you see."

"Of all the ridiculous-! _Fine,_ whatever, Noah." Silence for a minute, then: "Huh. Claire, why is your friend in these?"

"Zach?"

"No. Well, it's the funniest thing? There's this strange boy in most of these photos? Even with Mr. Muggles? I have this weird feeling I should know who it is, but I just can't recall who? And there's a baby in pictures from when Claire was little in Odessa, not when _she_ was a baby, but as a toddler on up? As well as a couple more recent ones from here in Costa Verde? There's even one with him posing in this house with Claire, Meredith, and I, but he doesn't look too happy about it? Did Meredith have another kid? Claire, do you have a half brother?"

"Yeah, two, but they're Nathan and Heidi's kids," she replied, ignoring Peter.

"Noah? What's going on?"

"Thanks, Sandra," he said. "There's nothing to worry about, it's just one of Claire's friends, is all," he lied to assure her. "If you feel lightheaded or anything, just lie down. If it gets worse, then call the doctor, okay?" he advised her, briefly wondering if she bought this lie.

Evidently not, as she started yelling. "Noah, I am _not_ going through all this again! What is going on?"

"I'm still trying to figure that one out. I'll let you know more as soon as I do. Thanks, bye," he said quickly before she could chew him out again.

Matt ended his mental connection, but still caught a few choice words she had for her ex-husband the others didn't hear. "So that proves it, if his room was left as is, including mail, so he must have recently wiped his existence from your minds?"

"Someone did, that's for sure," Noah corrected.

"So what now?" Peter inquired.

"Now, we go see what Maury really did yesterday and what's in those recordings," he said, getting up and heading for the door.

* * *

><p>TBC...<p>

Next: The Children's Crusade and the Death of Matt Parkman!

A/N:

About the uniforms, "bodysuits" worn by those with more active abilities would refer to the motorcycling/race car-type uniform (think kinda like Fantastic Four movie costumes, esp for Peter), while the lower power levels get the "military cut", which would be something between StarGate Atlantis (which I do refer to) and later Star Trek (Picard/DS9) style uniforms, which Tim "Redshirt" Moreau's would definitely be based on.

And, according to one of the online GNs, Meredith's brother Flint was on the plane in s3/v4 and killed by Danko's men shortly after it crashed. I believe this was revealed in the "Rebellion" arc? (personally, I always had a problem with this story, as a MAN was sucked out the hole, yet the GN claims it was Sparrow Redhouse. BTS pictures and footage showing the stunt at the time clearly shows the man (think a shorter Ty Burrell aka Incredible Hulk's "Leonard Samson" aka "Phil" from Modern Family) without the hood in that seat and being blown out the hole. Yet one more complaint to add to the massive list of problems at that point in time. Just like the James Walker/freezing fiasco!)

12/23/12


	17. Ch16 The Childrens Crusade

HEROES - Volume 6: Brave New World

Chapter 16: The Children's Crusade

Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable characters, just playing with Tim Kring's toys.

A/N - show canon; GN semi-canon/references. A couple OCs.

* * *

><p>"Rewind that."<p>

"We've watched it five times, now, Maury. That's what really happened," Noah told him.

"I don't remember it," he said again, rubbing the spot where Matt had struck him, earlier. Peter had healed him again, but he still suspected a mild concussion from the helmet. "Gray or someone must have-"

"I told you, I didn't do this," Gabriel said. "I've never even met Larry face to face. Neither I did shift into you."

"Lyle," Peter corrected.

"Did you copy our telepathy?" Matt demanded. "Did you erase this from his mind? Where were you before and after Sullivan broke out?"

"No, no, going over paperwork before and with Mr. Bahn afterward, helping dig through the rubble," he replied. "Funny how you're good with interrogations when it comes to _me_, Matt."

"Listen, you little-!"

"_Boys!_ That's not helping," Bennet warned them. "What we have here is a mystery in how this boy, who I apparently raised, has managed to erase himself from my family's memory, yet there are still physical traces of him in our home."

"In _mom's_ home," Claire corrected.

"As well as the paperwork when I brought him in," Rene added. "Even though I do not recall doing so, either."

"Don't look at me," Doyle deflected. "I remember picking Claire up at the television studio with Polsky and tall, dark, and scary here, but I don't remember ever seeing that kid before." Rene gave the puppeteer a dirty look. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"What about the cameras near where we fought Sullivan?" Matt asked. "Did they show anyone else? Lyle or that invisible girl who shot Peter?"

"Becky?" Claire chirped, nervously. "When was she brought here?"

"Unfortunately, we don't know," Noah admitted. "No one was looking for her, but she remained hidden under our noses for who knows how long until Sullivan escaped."

"Did she even show up on camera after she shot me?" Peter asked. "I only saw her because I held onto Claude's invisibility, and I saw her leave with them, but did anyone else see her?"

Matt, Gray, and Doyle shook their heads. "None of the base soldiers who were present saw her or another boy besides Campbell either, according to their debriefing reports," Noah informed them.

"So, how do we know he left with Sullivan, then?" Maury asked. "We're just assuming he did, right? If he could wipe his family's minds, as well as mine, then making his way off base past regular soldiers would have been easy."

"We know he was here before the break out, per the video surveillance. We haven't seen him since. Logically, he could have left with Sullivan," Gray concluded.

"What about the news van?" Matt reminded them.

"Then we commandeer any footage, from studio security cameras, traffic light cameras, anything that could tell us when and where he escaped," Noah decided.

"If he hid in the back of the van, then street cameras would be useless," Gray noted. "We only need to review the WATS security cameras, as well as interview the reporter and cameraman who was here."

"I already sent Hanson and Bahn to the station," Maury informed them. "Cover story was to ask for the master tape of any footage they took here, primarily for our own base structural damage review, but also for any hint of other escapees."

"And if Lyle isn't in any of their footage?" Noah asked.

"Then we know he left with Sullivan," Maury told him.

"What, exactly, did you do to him, dad?" Matt inquired. "This only happened _after_ you saw him. You must have done something."

"I. don't. remember."

"Fine, Pete, care to join me?" Before anyone could do anything, Matt psychically attacked his father.

"Matthew, don't you da-aack!" Maury grabbed his head as his son invaded his memories.

Matt saw they were in a smaller room, similar to the LAPD interrogation rooms. "I'm not the monster Matt makes me out to be, Bennet," Maury told Noah before the latter left the him with the boy. "Now, where were we?" he said before the scene changed.

Matt saw the three of them were now in a messy bedroom. Obviously the one that Sandra Bennet had briefly described to her husband on the phone, earlier. The memory actually had static in it, like an old UHF station or bad videotape that had been recorded over multiple times. The boy was busy on his computer, the scanner running endlessly as he typed away.

Maury peered over the boy's shoulder. "CodeStone? Damn." A man's face flickered briefly over the monitor.

"Stop. Rewind," Matt suggested and, as if he were watching a videotape, the scene froze and reversed in slow motion. A sinister looking man with bronzed skin from too much sun appeared over the open file on the screen. Matt tried to read it, but his dyslexia prevented him from making out too much other than 'Adam Monroe' and another name that-

The next thing he knew, Matt felt like he was falling backwards and landed in his chair at the conference table.

"_Keep out of my head, boy!_" Maury warned.

"I almost had it!" he shot back. "Who's CodeStone? What does he have to do with Adam Monroe?"

"None of your business, boy!"

Gray saw Bennet look to his Haitian partner. "Do you two know who that is?"

Noah glanced to Maury then Peter. "Yes. So does Peter."

"Me? I never heard of any Code Stone before? Unless you meant the Rosetta Stone?"

"Wait," Gray interjected. "Break the name down. Code, Stone. Stone, as in Petris? Petrelli? Something to do with Arthur?"

"I saw a face, tanned like someone who spent too much time in the sun," Matt said.

"I don't- wait, Uncle Tim?" Peter stammered.

"Timothy means 'honor of god', which _is_ a code," Gray noted.

Any eyes not on Maury turned to Bennet, who was staring at Maury. "You knew?"

Maury stood at his end of the table, knuckles resting on it, head hung in shame. "Angela recently told me he visited her in one of her dreams."

"You _knew_?" Peter accused him now. "Dad told us years ago he died!"

"We thought he was. We were wrong."

"You son of a bitch," Matt cursed, then forced his way back into his father's head. An instant later, Maury was crumpled on the floor, clutching his head.

"_Forget._ You told him to _forget_, and look what happened!" Matt shouted.

"Gkk! I didn't know," he mumbled. "I-I had no way to- _gk_!" His body stiffened. "I-I remember, now! I made the boy forget, to hide the truth from him. About his origins. I told him to forget, then saw Polsky go by. I went after him, then the building started shaking and I was attacked by that-that savage!" He was sobbing now, in as much mental pain as physical.

Bennet stared down at him. "His origins? What?"

"Arthur's brother -Tim, CodeStone, whatever you want to call him- he told the boy the truth," he panted. "He was never supposed to know. He was never yours, Noah. Just another assignment to watch over." Claire shot him a dirty look.

"Whose son was he?" Bennet demanded, trying to process the fact that he had been living another lie, deeper than keeping his real duty hidden from his family. "_Whose son?_"

"Adam Monroe," Gray said. The others turned to look at him. "It's obvious, isn't it? Matt saw that name and asked. Maury suddenly got scared. The boy is the son of Adam Monroe. The real question is, who is the mother? Sandra or someone else?"

Bennet stared aghast. "She didn't- She doesn't have any scars, no stretch marks," he stammered, realizing the truth. "She was never pregnant." He looked at the equally shocked Claire. "I never knew-!"

"Who is the boy's mother, Maury?" Peter demanded.

Gray was helping the fat man up into a chair. "I can't- She's- She's dead. Adam's dead. It doesn't matter."

"Who is it?" Bennet demanded in a flat tone. "Tell me."

"Susan. Susan Amman," he finally admitted.

"Another one of your Twelve, dad?" Matt pressed. "I didn't quite catch the name in your head, but I remember her name being one of your Company Founders that Adam killed," he said. "Anything else you'd like to admit while we're here? Is my mother one of your friends, too? What about Angela? Is she my real mother? Is she Sylar's? Were we all just one big _experiment_ by people drunk on power?" Matt pushed the image out of his mind as soon as he said that, the twelve -no, Adam made _thirteen_- of them involved in some grotesquerie that would make Caligula envious.

Maury's face tightened. "No. Your mother is your mother, Matthew. You aren't Peter's secret half-brother. Neither is Gabriel. No secret siblings between you three that I know of, just Peter and Nathan."

"I knew that much," Gray admitted. "Angela knew that I knew she was playing me. She had just fed me my psychometry ability, after all. Arthur probably suspected I knew the truth, as well, but kept up Angela's lie. Had I my ability to know the truth back then, I probably would have still played along just to see how far they would take it." He glanced across the table. "Sorry, Peter."

Matt eyed his father. "What else aren't you telling us? _Secret siblings?_ Who else is involved?"

"You're the detective, Matthew. You tell me."

Noah and Peter exchanged a look, then looked at Matt. "Niki and Tracy," Peter said. Noah motioned to Rene, who left the room.

"Niki's the one who threw me out a window and later tried to kill Bishop under mental orders from _you_, wasn't she, dad?"

"And Barbara," Noah added. "They were triplets, separated at birth. Niki was sent to be raised with one of our agents, Hal Sanders. Tracy to another, Strauss, and Dr. Jonas Zimmerman took the third, Barbara."

"Why does that name sound familiar?" Peter asked.

"He was one of your pediatricians," Maury replied, then glanced at Matt. "Yours, too."

"You sick piece of- _No_. I'm not taking your bait, anymore. Okay, listen, Molly told me Micah was Niki's son, right?" Matt asked. "She said she died saving his cousin from a fire in New Orleans."

"Tracy found out about her sister just in time to attend Niki's funeral," Noah explained. "She told me Micah found the link to Zimmerman as their common delivery doctor. The Company forged the parents on the birth certificate, but never bothered to lie about who delivered them. She tracked down Zimmerman, thanks to Micah, but never met Barbara, who ran away from home when she was younger. We lost track of her after that."

"So where does that leave us?"

"I sent Rene after Tracy, she'll be here in a minute," Noah said. "I'm not sure if she'll be any help, though."

"Claire, Doyle, you two can leave now," Maury suggested.

"Why do I have to go?" she protested. "This is still about the brother I can't remember, right?"

"Claire, _please_," Noah insisted, pointing out the door.

"Come on," Doyle urged her. "Don't make me march you out."

"You wouldn't?" she blurted. He smirked and motioned out the door, she finally did as she was ordered.

"Stay with her, Doyle, please," Noah asked. Now it was Eric's turn to act put out as he left. Bennet glanced down to Maury, which didn't go unnoticed by Matt or Gabriel.

"She's actually watching _him_ because you suspect he might still be working for Sullivan after Polsky turned on you, right?" Gray asked.

"Don't worry about it," Maury warned him, rubbing his temple.

Gray held up his hands. "Just asking."

The quartet sat in terse silence for several minutes until Rene returned with Tracy. "What's going on?" she asked.

"You didn't see Claire on your way in, did you?" Noah inquired.

"No, I haven't really seen her since the media presentation, why?"

"Good. Did she ever mention to you anything about a brother?"

She thought for a moment. "I think she mentioned him in passing that time I stopped by your apartment when my powers were going haywire? Why?"

"So you do recall him, then?"

"I don't remember if she mentioned his name or anything, but I do recall she did mention a brother? What's this about?"

Noah glanced to Maury. He shook his head, then gave Matt a warning look. "We were just trying to see if everyone here on base who did know about my son remembered him, as he seems to have erased himself from several of our memories, my wife included," he explained.

"Oh, okay. I thought it was about what that big Indian guy told me, earlier, right after the media left?"

Several eyebrows raised in curiosity. "Big Indian guy?"

"The tall Indian, not Mohinder," she clarified. "Norm, I think? I know he was at the carnival, but things have been so busy, I haven't had much time to socialize."

"Littlefeather? What did he tell you?"

"That I matched the description of the woman some bird of his said took Micah?"

"Of course, why wouldn't she?" Matt groused as several jaws dropped.

Noah started to say something to Rene, but saw he was already headed out the door. "Get him down here, immediately!" He then turned back to Strauss. "Tracy, have a seat. We've got something to tell you." He filled her in on what they had just discussed.

"_Excuse me?!_" was her reaction to the news. "When were you going to tell me about this?" she demanded of Maury.

He shrugged. "When Adam killed Susan, and then died himself, shortly after, tracking you down and telling you that you have another brother out there wasn't exactly at the top of my 'To Do List'," he explained.

"_Another_ brother?"

"You said you talked to Zimmerman, yes?" he asked. She nodded. "Did he not show you pictures of his family, Barbara and his son?"

She thought back a moment. "The other guy in some of those pictures? That was Barbara's brother, not mine, right? Her adoptive brother?"

More dirty looks aimed at Maury. "Another of Susan's children. Twin boys. Noah, you had one incarcerated in Level 5, did you not?"

"The German guy?" Peter spoke up.

Maury nodded. "He was one I had been tasked to make sure escaped, along with Doyle and yourself," he admitted.

"So what happened to Zimmerman's son?" Tracy asked. "Barbara's, what, half-brother? _Our_ half-brother?"

"One of them, anyhow," Matt interjected. "I count six kids from Amman and possibly Monroe, now. You three triplets, the German twins, and now Lyle, right? Anymore offspring we should know about, dad?"

"Elle Bishop was Susan's daughter, as well," he admitted.

Gabriel sat up. "Elle?"

Maury nodded. "Susan had the triplet girls, the twin boys, and Lyle by Adam, Elle by Bishop. Bob's wife was unable to conceive, despite several tries at in vitro and a little help from Victoria Pratt and her biological manipulation ability."

"Excuse me, what?" Matt asked. Gray's interest was piqued.

"She could manipulate biology, alter it how she wanted. In the Bishop's case, it was an attempt at helping them conceive, which didn't work," he explained.

"The plants!" Peter blurted out. The others looked at him. "When Adam duped me into working with him, we went to Victoria's place in Maine. It didn't occur to me at the time, but she had tropical plants, there."

Matt shrugged. "So?"

"She had tropical plants _outside_. In cold March weather. In _Maine_," he stated.

"Ah, I get it. It should have been too cold for them without a greenhouse or hot house, right?"

"Bingo, boy," Maury confirmed. "She was also how we got triplets from Susan, although we can't be sure on the twins," he explained.

"What about the others? Simone? Isaac?"

Maury shook his head. "Simone was Charles' daughter, Isaac was Carlos' son. Nothing to do with any other member of the group."

"So, Barbara? What ability does she have?" Tracy asked. "What about my siblings?

"Niki had super-strength," Peter offered.

"And a split personality," Matt added. "First time I met her, she was arguing with herself. I thought it was two different people, at first."

"That's interesting, but that wasn't a power, Matt," Noah corrected. "That was the result of seeing her sister die at a young age, fracturing her mind. The dominant personality even took on the dead sibling's name, Jessica. There was at least one other we knew about, Gina, possibly more."

"Ok, one super-strong sister. I can freeze things and turn into water. What about the others?" she interrupted.

"Elle was electric," Gabriel noted, with a sly smile.

"Her father was also an alchemist, transmuting one substance to another, usually gold, but not always," Maury added.

"That explains the Company bankroll, doesn't it, Noah?" Gray replied, casually flipping a pen in his fingers as it changed color.

Noah and Maury shared a look before proceeding. "The twin we had in Level 5 had a magnetic ability," he said.

Peter nodded his assent. "What about the other?"

Maury answered. "Nothing so far that we're aware of."

"You lost track of him, too, didn't you?" Matt asked.

"The last we heard, he had joined the seminary," Maury huffed. "He's made it all the way to the Vatican."

"With a little help from his parents' friends, no doubt," Matt accused.

"Be quiet, boy," Maury warned before turning back to the matter at hand. "That's all but the missing boy, Lyle, and third triplet, Barbara. We now suspect he has some mental power, erasing his existence from the minds of myself and his family. Whether I instigated this or activated his power by accident, or he had kept it hidden for a while now, we don't know."

"That's an awful lot of power coming from an immortal regenerator and, what did you say Susan's ability was again?" Gray inquired.

"Speed. She was a super fast runner," he said. "Like Edgar, out there. Not that it mattered."

"Or like Daphne," Matt alleged, glaring at his father.

"We have found no trace of them being related, Matt," Maury replied. "Had you gotten to know her family? Have you talked to Rice? None of those fliers out there are related, nor those strongmen. There's no relation between Molly, Agent Bahn, and/or Mr. Alexander. Nor between Arthur Petrelli and Samson Gray. Sometimes a coincidence is just a coincidence."

"I can attest to the last pair," Gabriel spoke up. "Other than being a pair of power hungry bastards with a similar base power, that is. No offense, Peter."

"I knew them both, and may we never see their like again," Maury agreed.

"You knew my father, Samson?"

"He nearly killed me, twice," Maury replied, then glanced back to Matt. "That's one of the reasons I left you, Matt. I couldn't put you and your mother in danger like that."

"So you say," Matt growled.

"I have a question," Tracy interrupted. "Peter, your mother admitted to Nathan and me that they injected us with the original version of the Formula. So how many of my siblings received a similar injection? Is that why we're so powerful?"

"All of them," Maury admitted through gritted teeth. "And I don't know. Maybe you were all supposed to develop abilities, and the Formula merely supercharged you. I wasn't allowed in on that decision, and can only speculate."

"Ando," Matt blurted. "When we tried to rescue Hiro from the past where Arthur trapped him, he took the Formula injection. He got supercharging powers. He touched me and my head nearly split open, then he touched Daphne and sent her back in time a minute, which they teamed up to bring Hiro back to the present," hew explained. "Were his parents in on this, too?"

"Not that I am aware of," Maury replied. "If they were previous associates of Kaito with abilities, I don't know anything about it. I didn't even know the kid existed until he started working directly with Kaito right before Adam murdered him," he explained. "I was only speculating on the Formula supercharging latent abilities, not suggesting anything else."

Matt was about to say something else, but they were interrupted by a knock at the door. Rene entered, followed by Norm Littlefeather, who had to duck as he entered the room. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, Mr. Littlefeather," Maury greeted him. "I understand a little birdie literally told you that whoever took Micah looked like Ms. Strauss here?"

"Well, kinda, yeah?" he admitted, looking her over. "In their language, it was more, 'paleface straw hair woman' and 'man with nest on face', but essentially, yeah?"

"Nest on face?" Tracy asked, somewhat incredulous.

"Brown hair with a beard," he explained.

"If you'll allow me, think about what the bird told you," Maury suggested. A moment later, Norm's recollection was shared with the rest of the room.

"Whoa, cool," the tall man grinned, seeing his thoughts projected for the first time.

"Is this fairly accurate?"

"Uh, yeah, from what I remember being told?" he agreed.

"So, what's our next move?" Tracy asked, changing the subject and trying not to be offended by the scarecrow image of her possible sister. "The only reason I'm here is because what Noah told me in his letter, 'Barbara has Micah.' Amazing how three little words can change your mind."

Maury glared at Bennet for a moment. "The boy somehow sent us a GPS signal through his Rebel Network," Noah explained. "Apparently, there is a vehicle at or near where they are being kept that is updating their position, most of the time. Satellite imaging shows it is at a farm in Tennessee. This corresponds with the location Molly believes my grandson is at."

"Excuse me? _My son._ Not your grandson," Matt fumed.

"Matthew, shut your mouth and listen. You're finally getting what you want. This is where we make the plan to rescue those kids."

"About damn time."

Maury glanced to Peter for a second before looking back at Matt. _I can only hope Angela was wrong, son. I already lost your mother. I don't want to lose you for good, as well._

* * *

><p>Eight hours later, the agent codenamed 'Gunman' fired his crossbow towards the otherwise unassuming farmhouse. The bolt arced up and deployed glider wings, gliding down toward the roof. Inside the attached capsule, Dan Walters was uttering a string of curses as he tried to maneuver the device he was in. He landed on the roof with a "<em>Whoulff!<em>" before the capsule skittered towards the edge with his weight. Luckily, the frame of the wing caught in the gutter, preventing him from going over the edge.

"I am _never_ doing this again!" he yelled into his helmet's comm.

"I told you, I never miss," the marksman replied. "Now secure your craft and rappel down to the windows," he ordered. Another string of curse words followed as Gunman reported in. "Pulsar is in castle, deploying now."

"We can hear him just fine," Bennet replied. "Every single word, Pulsar."

"Did I not mention I frigging _hate_ flying?" Walters told him as he let the rope -_rope? Hell this is fishing string!-_ down to peek into the windows. Shimmying down, he kept repeating, "dontlookdown, dontlookdown, dontlookdown!"

"_You're doing fine, Dan_," Matt assured him mentally. "_Can you see in the windows, yet?_"

"Rope's twisting, still spinning a bit," he replied. "Looks like I got, hold on, two bodies in beds? One has, whaddyacallit, jheri curl? Stevie Wonder hair? No, sorry, Michael Jackson hair, back when he was still black."

"_Sounds like Micah, can you see the other one?"_ Matt asked, trying not to laugh.

"No, they aren't facing me," he replied, then saw a few twigs drop past him. The rope shook slightly. "Hey, is there someone on the roof? _Yipe! Help!_"

"_Dan?" _Matt asked. "_What did you say? Dan_?"

"_Holy Shit! It's gonna eat me!"_

"Gunman, go!" Bennet ordered. "Take the shot!"

The dark shape on the roof howled as the bullet hit him.

"Someone help!" Dan screamed, as the savage Harvath squeezed the six inch man in his fist.

"Take him out!" Bennet ordered.

"What about Pulsar?" Gunman inquired.

"Take out the Savage, you hopefully won't have to worry about Pulsar," Bennet snapped, watching the rooftop scene in his infrared binoculars. "His howling is sure to warn the others!"

Before he could squeeze the trigger on his sniper rifle, the man-beast seemed to cover his mouth for a brief instant.

Dan screamed over the comm. "Oh god! Help! He ate me!"

"_Are you still in one piece?_" Matt yelled. "_Go big! Dan!_"

Even as the words left his mind, the beast howled again, before it was cut short by a wet tearing sound. Two large shapes fell from the roof, landing beside the house. One rose and howled again before turning and punching the building. The whole house shook. Lights that had been turning on now flickered and went dark.

"I have the shot!" Gunman yelled.

"Don't!" Matt yelled. "That's Dan- Pulsar! Do _not_ take the shot! Do you hear me? That's our man, Pulsar!"

Matt and Bennet looked at each other from their vantage point in the trees. "Gunman?" Bennet asked into the comm as the enraged Walters struck the house again, shattering a wall. "Gunman, reply!"

Silence.

"What's happening?" Matt asked, turning back into the dark. It was too quiet. "We're not alone."

"All units, this is Recon. We are surrounded!" Bennet yelled into his comm as dark shapes began dropping from the trees around them.

Men erupted from the shadows, their black leather outfits blending in with the dark night of the woods. Only brief flashes of dim light reflected by the round lenses of their masks gave them away. Noah saw a short length of hose sticking out where their mouths should be as he was surrounded. Clawing at one face, he managed to pull the mask loose.

"We serve only her," Eli chanted. "We love only her."

"Polsky! They've got Polsky surrounding us!" Bennet yelled, unsure if his earpiece was still there as the Eli duplicates began pummeling him. He hoped Matt at least heard him and alerted the others as he lost consciousness.

The duplicates began overwhelming the squad in the trees. "This is St. Joan! There's too many!" Monica Dawson yelled, attempting to elude the group after her.

"There's no mind for me to control!" Doyle yelled. "I need the Prime Eli!"

"I've got you," Edgar told Monica as his blades sliced through the clones. "That's his big weakness! The dupes can't take a punch!" he yelled into his comm.

"I've got your back!" Peter replied. "Dispatch, where are you? Dispatch? _Matt?!"_

Outside the house, the now hulking Dan Walters began tearing his way into the building. In his enraged state, he barely registered what he was doing, only that a large man had tried to hurt him. He saw a bearded man run out the door as he tore into one room. He instinctively gave pursuit, tearing another hole in the other side of the house. Once there, however, the bearded man was nowhere to be seen. However, another man stood there, nearly as large as his own present bulk.

"Pardonnez moi, monsieur," the large man with the blond flat top said, apparently unaware he could reason with the angered Pulsar. "I am called Brutale. You are not welcome, I am told," he explained in a thick accent.

Walters directed his rage at this man, his now limited mind only aware that a large man made him mad, and this one would do. Leaping at the other man, he suddenly found himself hurled in the opposite direction with an equally mighty blow.

"(Did I fail to mention I am only as strong as my opponents, monsieur?)" Brutale exclaimed in his native French.

"Really? Then try this on for size," came a woman's voice as the air around the Gallic thug began to freeze. In moments, only the man's head was free from the thick block of ice that now encased him.

"_Non!_" he exclaimed through chattering teeth.

"Mais oui," Tracy replied, stepping past him into the wreckage of the house. She saw a shadow enter from the other hole Walters had created. "St. Joan?" she asked tentatively. The lithe woman nodded and pointed at the ruined stairs. "Allow me," she said and pointed her hands at the gaps. Ice began to fill in the missing steps.

"I don't think so," came a voice from above. The two woman looked up to see a young man pointing his hands down at them. The air shimmered in heat as the newly formed ice steps melted and the wood began to smolder. "I got a power boost. How about you two?" Luke Campbell gloated.

Outside, Dan Walters was finally recovering from the mighty blow of Brutale when he saw a woman approach. Her face was china white and her hair a mass of fiery curls. "You don't need to fight me," she urged, one fishnetted leg sticking out from her black leather coat seductively.

Dan shook his head. The air was thick with a scent he couldn't shake. "_No_," he snarled, finding his rage again. He rose and reached for her, growling.

"What? No, you can't!" Fatale insisted before she turned and ran for cover. "No man can resist me!"

Before he could pursue, the air was filled with a high pitched shrieking. Dan still had enough sense to clap his hands over his ears to block it, but it still wasn't enough.

A sonic boom suddenly tore through the grounds, and the man from Phoenix dubbing himself 'DJ Scream', Donald Munch, found himself flying backwards, the wind knocked from him (and likely a few cracked ribs) by Peter Petrelli. "Shut the hell up, dude."

Turning back to the house, Peter felt the earth churn beneath his feet. The house began shaking apart, the gaping holes from Pulsar's rage the first signs of collapsing, and he could see flames flickering inside.

Between him and the house, he could see Samuel Sullivan. "Hello again, Peter!" he shouted. "Time for round three?"

Peter nodded and charged, running at his opponent. Samuel motioned between them and the ground rippled for a moment before Samuel was slammed into from the side.

"You don't know how long I've waited to do that!" Edgar gloated, kicking the now unconscious man while he was down.

"Inside! The house is on fire!" Peter told him. They ran in and saw Tracy and Monica trying to make their way upstairs against the flames Luke Campbell was creating, burning the house down around him. "Like I showed you!" Peter yelled to Edgar, holding his arm out and spinning it in a circle, going faster and faster. The pair created enough of a wind vortex to put out the fire on the stairs and push Campbell back from the top landing.

"Watch her back," Peter ordered Edgar as Tracy immediately redoubled her efforts at a temporary repair so they could get upstairs to the children while Monica parkoured her way up and Peter flew to the second level. At the top of the stairs, they were confronted by Campbell and another man in dark blue, his shins and forearms in some sort of braces. Blades popped out from the arm braces.

"Let's have at it, then, love," SteepleJack urged, then leapt at Monica. She narrowly avoided him, but he ricocheted off the wall right back at her, knocking her back down the stairs.

Edgar saw this and managed to rush up to catch her before she was hurt. "That wasn't very fair," he warned the other man.

"As if I care, lad," SteepleJack said and launched himself at the pair once more.

"Enough!" Peter yelled. He grabbed the leaper with his telekinesis and tossed him into Campbell, knocking both out. Concentrating again, all six doors in the top hall pulled off and covered the pair.

Monica and Edgar raced up to help check each room. "Dummies!" she yelled, finding a pile of pillows and a wig passing for Micah's hair in one room. The others found much the same in the other rooms.

"They're not here?" Tracy asked, finally joining them upstairs.

"They should have been," Peter insisted. "I copied Molly's tracking ability, it led me up here!"

"Where are they, then?" Monica wondered.

"Teleported out?" Peter offered.

"The same guy who rescued Samuel?" Edgar suggested before the house shook once more. "Speak of the devil!"

"That wasn't an earthquake, someone hit the house," Peter realized. "Everyone out, move!"

The quartet evacuated, Peter towing their two unconscious opponents on broken doors with his TK. Outside, they found Walters engaged in another fight with the Frenchman, Brutale. And losing badly.

"I guess my ice wasn't strong enough to hold him?" Tracy said.

Peter dumped the beaten pair by Samuel. "I've got an idea, make a large pile of snow!"

"What? Why?"

"Do it!" he ordered, flying at the two musclemen and grabbing Brutale by the arm and flying upward. "What goes up-" he said, releasing the man in midair.

Brutale had been caught off guard, and as soon as he tried to grab Peter, he found himself falling.

"-must come down!" Peter said, directing the man into Tracy's snow drift. "Freeze him again!" he ordered as soon as the other man landed.

This time, she froze him nearly completely solid, save for a small hole through which to breathe. "This better hold him!" she said triumphantly.

"Uh, guys?" Monica said, backing into them. "_Our_ big man's still got a mad on!"

They turned to see the hulking Walters charging them, or rather, charging his now frozen opponent. "Move!" Peter warned them, reaching out to alter the charging man's approach telekinetically, directing him towards the barn as Tracy allowed herself to liquefy and Edgar pulled Monica aside, out of the man's path.

Dan Walters never reached the barn, however. Peter saw the man vanish before his eyes. "What? Where?" he stammered.

The barn door opened fully to reveal a third muscleman in brown and wearing a Trojan helmet. He smiled triumphantly. He motioned with his finger for them to approach as he stood aside.

"That's one of the men who took Samuel," Edgar informed the women.

"Stay here," Peter cautioned his friends. _Edgar, do a quick scout of the woods. Find Bennet and the others._

Keeping out of reach of the Trojan, he entered the barn as bidden. Inside, he found Matt Parkman and Noah Bennet missing his infamous horn-rimmed glasses on their knees, hands behind their backs, before three others: his 'late' uncle Tim, an obese man, and the other well dressed man who had absconded with Samuel Sullivan's crew. Another man, a redhead, sat on a bale of hay to the side.

"Surrender, Peter," Tim Petrelli demanded, "or your friends die."

"Where are the children?"

"We've moved them to a safe place," the man also known as CodeStone said. "Well, safer than this place is, now."

"Release the children and I'm yours," he declared.

"tut, tut, nephew," he clucked. "I keep the children and I kill your friends."

Behind him, the Trojan slammed the door, keeping Monica out. Peter wondered where Tracy had gone as he felt something shift inside him. "What's going on?" he demanded.

"Nothing much, boy," the fat man replied. "Just removing any chance you had of back up."

"Who are you people?" he demanded.

The fat man reached down and grabbed Matt's head. "We're old friends, aren't we, Matty?" he sneered. "Of course, Matt seems to have forgotten all about me. That still won't keep me from killing him, will it, old friend?"

"Shut up, old man," the well dressed man snapped. "Karras, open the door. Show young Petrelli where we are now."

The Trojan did as he was told, and Peter did a double take at the sunlight now streaming in where once it had been dark. From the low angle, he guessed it to be early morning. "Where-?"

"Shut up, Peter. We have your friends, we have the children, and soon enough, we will have our revenge."

"I don't even _know_ you people!" Peter protested.

"Your father left me for dead," Tim claimed. "Either I take my revenge on you or on Nathan's boys. Personally, you would put up a better fight. Besides, Angela his her grandsons where I can't find them."

"Dad told us you died! I never knew how or why!" Peter exclaimed. "Why should I be blamed for something I never had anything to do with?"

"Because your father Arthur really is dead these days and I need vengeance, Peter," he said. Before Peter could react, he found himself flying out the door, landing on the tarmac of another military base.

The well dressed man followed him out. "I do know you were there when my father died," he explained. "Sure, you weren't the one who killed him, but you'll make a fine replacement."

Peter wiped his bloody lip. "_Who are you_?" he demanded again.

"My name is Austin Linderman. My father Daniel was killed in New York City the same night you lot nearly nuked it. He should have been well away before then, but they found him in his Kirby Plaza office the next morning, the back of his head torn out. Several years before that, my new bride was killed by some other Special as we left our wedding. I'm holding you responsible for both."

"I had nothing to do with either of those!" Peter protested.

Austin shrugged. "True, but like I said, you'll do for now."

Peter found himself flying as if he had just been kicked in the gut once more before crashing back to the pavement. Concentrating, he reached out to copy the man's ability, but found himself in even greater agony.

"That won't work on me, Peter," he said.

Peter looked around, a small crowd was beginning to form. "Help me!" he pleaded before realizing that most of them were in costumes, as well.

Back in the transported barn, Brad grabbed Matt once more and threw him out after Peter, narrowly avoiding Austin.

"Do you mind?" Austin snapped. "I'm in the middle of something here!"

"I grow weary of your revenge, Linderman. I was promised my son for my own vengeance," Samson reminded him. "Where is he?"

Peter coughed. "I don't-? what?" He realized his wounds weren't healing. Why weren't they healing? He looked up to see his uncle had Bennet by the neck, forcing him out onto the tarmac as well, then forcing him back onto his knees by Matt.

"That's just not Matt's friend, Peter," Tim informed him. "I hear you're personally familiar with the ability of body insertion, aren't you? I placed Samson Gray inside of Mr. Parkman's associate. Two for one special, you might say," he smirked.

"Where is my son Gabriel?" Samson demanded again.

Peter shook his head. "Matt...Matt wouldn't let him come. Said he wasn't allowed near the kids, no matter how much we thought we would need him."

"You just ruined my day, then, Mr. Parkman," Samson said, kicking the telepath in the ribs. Matt stayed silent and forced himself back up onto his knees.

Tim eyed the man warily. "He shouldn't have that kind of authority. Why would he get to be in charge over his father or Bennet, here?"

"Leave him alone!" Noah finally shouted.

"What's going on here, Bennet?" the elder Petrelli demanded, eyeing the unusually silent Parkman. he wondered why the other two were covering for him.

The crowd now surrounded the sextet. Bennet looked around, squinting and recognizing several faces from files from the Company's international offices. If they were all working for Tim Petrelli and Samson, then they really were in trouble.

"You saw the newscast?" Noah asked. "Matt clocked his father with his helmet. We didn't realize how badly he was hurt at first. Maury suffered a concussion and fell into a coma right before we left our base," he explained. "This task force fell to Matt and I to put together. He refused to allow Sylar to come along."

Peter started to deny this, but saw Austin watching him. He decided to play along, instead. "Noah, stop! They don't need to know about our ace in the hole!"

"Didn't I tell you to shut up, already?" Austin said as Peter's face slammed down into the pavement again.

Tim eyed his nephew. "What's he talking about Bennet? What ace in the hole?"

"Don't you dare, Bennet," Matt growled, surprising Samson and CodeStone, both.

Noah ignored him and tried to rise to his feet. Something held him down. He could feel it holding his shoulders, his body, down. "We...we're being watched. Parkman's foster daughter can track us anywhere in the world. It's only a matter of time before our cavalry arrives and rescues us and the stolen children."

"I doubt that very much," Petrelli sneered.

In a flash, Bennet flicked his wrist and the blade he had stashed there was in his palm. He lashed out, hoping for the artery in Petrelli's inside thigh, maybe stab Samson, as both were standing close enough.

Instead, Bennet found the blade torn from his grasp seconds before it was embedded in his chest. The other two men laughed as he fell back on the tarmac.

Linderman glared at his associates. Peter screamed. "_Nooo!"_

Parkman's face twisted in anger. "You bastards!"

"Oh, do shut up," Tim said and produced Bennet's gun from inside his jacket and aimed at Matt. He then thought better of it and handed it to Samson. "Better idea."

"Parkman's childhood friend shoots him? I like that idea," Samson said. "Can you see this, Bradley? Do you recognize the man before us? I can hear you screaming in here. Can you hear him, Parkman?" He pressed the muzzle against Matt's forehead.

Matt knelt there, grimfaced. "Where. Is. My. So-

Peter screamed again as the back of Matt's head exploded and his body crumpled to the ground.

* * *

><p>To Be Continued...<p>

A/N: actor Ken Lally claimed the German was Barbara Zimmerman's brother in an interview, but this was never confirmed by the writers. Since the character was never given a proper name (see: Haitian) during his short run, I decided to make Lally's Zimmerman a twin, one being incarcerated in Level 5, the other being Barbara's brother who went to the seminary.

12/24/12.


	18. Ch17 Worlds at War

HEROES - Volume 6: Brave New World

Chapter 17: Worlds at War

Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable characters, just playing with Tim Kring's toys.

A/N - show canon; GN semi-canon/references. A couple OCs.

* * *

><p><strong>Tennessee<strong>

"Well where the hell are they, Doyle?" Maury Parkman demanded of the puppeteer.

"I told you, I have no clue!" he insisted. "One moment, we were about to attack, the next, we were swarmed by these men in black. I heard someone shout 'Polsky' before they knocked me out. I think I yelled I needed the Prime to control them as they attacked me? I couldn't control them. When I came to, the battle was over, the house was all but destroyed, and the barn was missing!" he explained.

Maury frowned again. He saw in the man's mind the scene play out just as he described. No sign of any mental alteration by another telepath. Or Lyle. Everything else happened in the few minutes Doyle had been out and the arrival of Maury's back up squad. Sullivan's team had been here and been defeated, but the children and even Lyle and Barbara Zimmerman were nowhere to be found. If they had ever been here to begin with.

He looked over the scene of carnage once more. Something -some_one?_- had erupted out of the large savage from Chicago, tearing him in half. A French strongman was suffering from frostbite by the time their pyrokinetic Dan Page had been brought in to thaw him out of the literal iceberg the man had been trapped in. Sullivan and Campbell were now accounted for, but they also had another man from England among the defeated. He was in the Company files as possessing the ability to increase and redirect his own kinetic motion. There were even reports of troops finding torn bondage suits randomly scattered in the woods. Had Polsky used them? It would make sense if someone had identified his presence before Doyle had been overcome. From the growing count, Rice had to have been responsible for taking those dupes out of the fight.

But where was Polsky _now?_ Not to mention his own team: Bennet, Matt, Peter, the Gunman, Edgar Rice, Tracy Strauss, Monica Dawson, and Dan Walters? Walters' mini arrow-craft had been spotted, wrecked on what remained of the house, but no sign of the man inside or his cohorts.

And more importantly, where were the _children_ they all came to rescue?

One of his lieutenants came running up. "We have confirmation, Sir!"

"You found our people? The _children?_"

"Sorry, no, sir," he said, handing Director Parkman a paper.

Maury read it incredulous. "The house was owned by Joshua H. Carpenter, local reverend, and his wife, Barbara...nee _Zimmerman_?"

Before he could decide if this was good news or bad, his cell rang. "This better be important!" he barked as he reread the sheet.

"Sir, it's Sally."

"Make it quick!"

"It's the children, sir! The girl, she- she won't stop crying!"

"What do I care about-"

"The _Walker girl_, sir!" Sally clarified. "She- She- I'm sorry, sir, she claims she- She believes that-"

_No_. "Matt."

"I'm sorry, sir," Sally said again, nearly crying herself.

Maury crumpled the paper as his heart sank.

* * *

><p><strong>UK<strong>

Peter screamed again as the back of Matt's head exploded and his body crumpled to the ground. Peter's body was battered, his mind now numb from seeing one friend stabbed, another- no, Matt couldn't be dead. Not now. There was no way!

He vaguely felt hands all over him. Carrying him...where? Somewhere away from his friends. He had to go back. He could heal them! But then he remembered, his own body wasn't healing from the injuries he had received since they were brought here. Wherever 'here' was. His mind was awhirl, trying to process what had just happened. This was supposed to be a _rescue mission._ They were only coming to free the stolen children from...who? Barbara Zimmerman? Tim Petrelli? Instead, they found his presumed deceased uncle Tim, Daniel Linderman's son Austin, and allegedly Gabriel Gray's father inside a childhood friend of Matt Parkman. The latter of which..._no. This isn't happening! It can't be happening!_

Peter knew he was powerless. He had no ability to call on, not even able to copy any from those surrounding him. He was definitely outnumbered now that Noah and Matt...were...

He let the crowd carry him off to whatever destiny lay in store for him. There was no way Maury Parkman could rally the rest of Helix Base in time to save them from whatever fate lay in store for him.

Behind Peter, in front of the barn that stood in Tennessee minutes earlier, two bodies lay bleeding on the ground, and another group of people were arguing.

"Get them out of here!" Bakari demanded of Samson, Petrelli, and Linderman. "Iason, my friend, can you help them?"

The ginger-maned Greek knelt beside Noah Bennet. "He still breathes, barely. I will do what I can," he said, then glanced to the other body. "That one, I am afraid is beyond my help." He carefully began to pull the knife free.

"Why did you do this?" Lyric, the Irish woman with vocal hypnosis, demanded. "We were told we were to be a force for good, not treachery like this!"

"These men were plenty treacherous," Tim Petrelli told her, reaching up to touch her cheek. "You would do well to remember that, my dear."

She slapped his hand away. "You disgust me!"

He backhanded her, sending her flying. The German decathlete Zehnkampf moved to catch her. "Nein!" he warned the bronze-skinned man.

"Get them out of here!" Akihito Kaemon demanded, then turned to the remaining members of their group. "What assistance do you need, Iason-san?"

"This one won't heal?" he replied, confused. He glared at Linderman. "Did you 'borrow' my ability as well?" he accused.

Austin smirked, then turned to leave.

"Enough of this!" the red haired man still in the barn declared. He reached down to touch his fellow ginger. "Try again."

The Greek calling himself Caduceus concentrated on Bennet's knife wound again. "I can feel it, barely."

"Valkyr! Shamrock! We could use your assistance, ladies!" Bakari called out. The older Irish woman approached. "Any way you can change the odds for us will be appreciated," he told her. She nodded and concentrated, in her mind's eye, pulling the strings of fate and chance as far as she dared.

The gaunt German healer/euthanist approached and laid a hand on Bennet, as well. "He will live." Rising, she then went to the body of Matt Parkman. Someone had already covered his head. She cocked her head. "Something is not right? This one has a long life in him, yet? _Very_ long?"

Adom, Iason, and Akihito, among others, all looked at her in surprise. Several versions of "What did she say?" could be heard in various native tongues.

The red haired stranger reached over and touched Matt's body as well.

Valkyr suddenly yelped as Matt's hand closed around her wrist and he sat up. The jacket someone had laid over his bloody head fell away. He took in his surroundings and the host of strangers surrounding him, staring at him as the man's head wound finished healing.

"_Mein Gott_," Zehnkampf hissed.

A large gasp came from Noah Bennet as Iason's healing finally took hold. He looked around and saw everyone staring at Matt. "What did I miss?"

"Your friend. He was shot in the head," Iason said softly.

Noah twisted and squinted at the other man sitting up on the pavement. "Matt?"

Parkman looked at Noah and cocked his head. "Hello, Noah."

"Y-you're not- You're not Matt," Noah realized.

* * *

><p><strong>Six hours ago, Helix Base<strong>

"You have your orders, people! Now _move!_" Maury snapped. The room cleared of all personnel but one. "What?"

"You didn't include me."

"You can't be trusted."

"I want to prove myself. How often must I do that to earn your trust?"

"You should have thought of that before."

"Matt doesn't want me there."

"_I_ don't want _Matt_ there!"

"So I hear, Mr. Parkman. I still want to help."

"Then help by staying here as back-up then," he said before leaving the other man behind by himself.

"I promised I would help rescue Matty," Gabriel said to no one.

Back in the barracks, the various squad members were in a rush attempting to get everything ready to leave. The four youngsters were left sitting on the sidelines again.

"Vi, you can keep an eye on the other kids, right?" Dan Walters asked his daughter.

"Is that why I was brought along, to babysit?" she asked, half contemptuously, half joking.

"Of course not, honey, you were brought along to make me look good. Where would I be without my best gal?" he smirked.

She wasn't amused. "Under some greasy hood, eating food that's bad for you?" she replied, poking him in the stomach.

"Ouch," he winced. "Look, I've got to see Rodney in the motor pool, plus Director Parkman wants to see me before we head out. I'm not entirely sure what's going in, but- He thinks he may have a short term solution for me?"

"Yeah, be careful," she said and kissed him on the cheek.

He hugged her tight until she complained. "Love you, kiddo."

Matt entered and saw them break apart. He paused to nod to Dan as he left, then asked Molly to come with him.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"We're finally going to rescue the kids like I wanted," he told her, leading her back to his room.

"You're bringing your son back home?"

Matt didn't have to be a mind reader to know that wasn't what she was really asking. "Scared of becoming a big sister?"

"No," she lied.

"You saw what I said in the press conference where I made an ass of myself, didn't you?"

"...yeah."

"I'll tell you what, Angela Petrelli says she saw me die. She also saw all of us dying in New York, remember that?"

"yeah?"

"We're still here, Mol," he assured her, kneeling down. "Save me from her villainous imagination, deliver me from my friends, if I said something to make you mad, I will take it back," he sang to her, recalling her constantly playing the song back in their apartment they had shared with Mohinder. "Think of all the lives, saved by plastic knives. It's naïve, but make believe, we will never lose, if we remove our shoes," he chuckled, continuing the song. "We can have perfect 20/20 hindsight that are faded joys."

"Ma-_att_!"

"What?"

"You're singing it _wrong_."

"That's my interpretation, just as that was Angela's interpretation," he told her. "You get it?"

She reluctantly nodded her head. "yeah."

"Okay, then, scoot. I need to get changed."

"Is Mohinder going, too?"

"Not in the first squad. Somebody's got to come home safe with your little brother." This last didn't brighten her mood in the least. "Sorry, you know what I mean, this is dangerous, but no more dangerous than when I was on the force." She gave him a dirty look. "Okay, so it's a bit more dangerous, but I'm not going there alone. I've got Peter, Bennet, and others watching my back."

"Okay," she sighed. "It's just-"

"Yeah?"

"Be careful, dad."

He smiled and kissed her forehead. "I will. Now scoot."

He sat and stared after her for a long minute. Was that the first time she had used the d-word? A knock woke him from his reverie. "What is it, Mol?" he said, absentmindedly answering the door.

"Can we talk?"

Matt's smirk fell. "No." He tried to close the door, but it wouldn't budge even as he put his full weight behind it. "Go away."

"I want to make amends with you, Matt."

He gave up trying to close the door against the man's telekinesis. "That ship has long passed."

"Matt-"

"I've asked you to leave. Don't make me force you. Again."

"Your father's as scared of losing you as you are of losing Matty," he said. "I want to try and make things right between us. I want to help you get your son, back."

"Get the hell out of here, Sylar."

"Please."

Matt had crossed to the window, he turned back to see the door closed and the other man inches away. "What-?"

"I'm doing this for your own good, Matthew," he said, placing a hand over Matt's mouth. _Trust me._

_Never!_ he thought back, but he found he couldn't move. A knock at the door made them both jump.

"Hey, Matt, Bennet wants you in staging in five!" Bloom called.

The door opened a crack. "I'll be there, don't worry," Matt said.

Bloom shrugged. "Okay, just letting you know. They won't let me go on this, either. Just playing gopher."

"Bloom?"

"Yeah."

"Go home."

"yeah. Eventually."

Matt closed the door, then turned and looked at his twin hanging nearly frozen in mid-air. "Well, _he_ bought it. Now to see about your friends and father. Just crank up the grumpy, with a thousand percent focus on Matty, right?"

Matt thought a series of expletives at the other man that would make a career seasoned sailor (or cop) blush.

"I told you, I'm doing this for your own good. Consider it my penance to you, Matt," he said. "After I'm gone -when you wake up, that is- there will be an envelope. Read it before you do anything else." He approached Matt and lowered him back to the floor. "For now? Trust me, and _sleep._"

As far as anyone else knew for the next six hours, Gabriel Gray was sulking in his quarters and Matt Parkman was on a mission to rescue his son.

Elsewhere, Maury Parkman sat in a darkened room with Dan Walters. "What were you thinking about the first time you changed size?"

"I was watching the game?"

"Which game?"

"uh...Giants-Royals? I don't really remember?" he lied.

"What were you feeling?"

"Kinda bored, except-"

"Yes?"

"Uh, tired?"

"Dan, I don't need lies. I need complete honesty, here."

"I was- I was horny, okay?" he admitted, his cheeks flushing red.

"Remember that time. I'm going in."

"Okay, wait, what?" he stammered before the office changed into his living room. "Whoa." At least Matt had given him a few seconds' warning before sharing Bennet's memory/dreamscape, earlier.

"What were you doing?"

"Chilling, watching the game." He looked away. "Fantasizing."

"What was that?"

"What?"

"When you looked away, what did you see?"

Dan got up and went to the window and looked up. "The, uh, is that an eclipse?"

"Yes."

"I didn't even notice it- no, wait. When I thought I dozed off, dreaming I was drowning in a sea of cotton and flannel?" he looked down at his shirt. "In my clothes? That might explain why I woke up naked?"

"What did you see?" he pressed.

"I thought I was dreaming. I saw a black sun, then...I woke up naked?"

"You fantasized about one of the players?"

"Hey, look, do we really need to-?"

"Yes. Again, I don't care. I've seen much worse thoughts and fantasies, Dan. This doesn't even faze me."

Dan showed him. "don't judge me."

The room grew larger.

"Hm. Do you think you could feel those same emotions now? At will?"

"um, not really?"

"As I thought. It's a confidence issue, isn't it?"

"I- no! I-!" he argued before admitting it. "yeah."

"Do you need this memory to draw from, or do you think you could create a new one to trigger the change if you need it?"

"gods, this is _so_ embarrassing!"

"Dan, I told you, I don't- oh. I understand. You do know you'd be wasting your time, right?"

"...yeah. I'm sorry."

"I'll never tell him. Now wake up."

Dan didn't even realize he'd been asleep. He opened his eyes and everything looked strange. Enormously strange. "What the-? What happened?"

_You triggered your change, Dan. Congratulations._

"Do you have to do the mindspeak? It kinda freaks me out."

"_Sorry, Rodney says he'll have a helmet wired to your current size so you can talk to everyone else that isn't a telepath_," Maury informed him. "_Otherwise, you're just a squeak to us and everyone else is a jet plane to you_."

"Lovely. Let's get this over with, can we?"

"_Hold on, let me reverse the change. You should be able to switch back and forth with this memory, for now."_

…

"Dan? Dan, wake up?"

"huh-wha?" he startled.

"It seems the shift in size knocks you out?" Maury inquired. "Are you alright?"

Dan rubbed his head as if he had been asleep for twelve hours -after a double triathlon- and was still tired. "yeah, seems like," he grumbled.

"Just in case, I gave you a second mental switch."

"What?"

"Just in case they need your strength more than your stealth," Maury advised him. "Although, I imagine if the scenario is that dire, you'll change on your own, like before, but the consequences of such a drastic change, however-?"

"Stay near 'Magic Fingers' Petrelli?"

"If possible."

"Good to know. Can we go suit up, then?"

Maury handed the man his pants from the floor. "One more favor?"

The look in his face told Dan all he needed to know. He nodded. "You be good to my girl while I'm gone, I'll bring your boys back, if I can."

"Thank you, Dan. And Dan? Your secrets are safe with me."

"I don't think it's much of a secret, except for the _who_ in question...for the moment," he humored the older man. "I know it'll never happen, but that's why they call it a fantasy, right?"

"You can always be friends," he suggested.

"But then we'll always have that giant white elephant in the room, won't we?"

"Speaking of, put your pants on, _please_," Maury smirked, putting up his hand to shield his view from the other man's lower half. "I'll meet you in the motor pool in five."

* * *

><p><strong>Now, UK<strong>

"Where's Peter?" Matt Parkman asked.

"You're not Matt," Bennet repeated.

"Where did the four men go that brought us here?" he asked, ignoring the accusation.

"What are you playing at?"

"I'm trying not to blow my cover, Noah." _Slight change in your plans._

"I think that ended when- You've still got blood all over you."

"Good. We'll have the psychological edge, then." He started to walk off.

"Not without me, you don't!" Noah said, giving chase.

"What-What did we just see?" Akihito asked.

"The turn of the tide," Bakari replied. "Come on, everybody!" he called out. "We are taking back control!"

All but two followed the two recent -and now bloody- arrivals. Iason stepped up to the red headed stranger. "You came with them. Who are you?"

"Charles Fowler," he introduced himself. "I apparently have the power to revive the dead?"

"You jump started my healing when Linderman 'borrowed' it," Iason informed him. "I would say you gave me a recharge or boost, instead?"

"Boost, huh? I kinda like that. What did you say your name was, again?"

"Iason. Or Caduceus. Whichever you prefer," he replied. "Come on, we're going to miss the big fight."

Fowler looked around. "Where are we, anyway?"

Iason shrugged. "Somewhere in the UK is all we can tell. Any previous signage has been removed and we've been kept pretty quarantined here since they began assembling us."

"Okay, and who or what is that on the barn?"

Iason looked to where Charles had been pointing. A large pod of ice clung to the backside. Two figures could be seen inside. Another of their group stood below, examining it.

"Hallo, mon ami," he said upon seeing the other two. He wore a loose, white blousy pirate shirt, with black leather pants, gloves, mask and buccaneer boots. Tucked into his belt on either hip was a dueling sword. Under the mask, they could see his wild eyes. Or were they drunk and bleary? It was hard to tell. "I am new here, but I do not think a barn in the middle of the open like this, especially with such unusual décor is, well, usual even for these parts, non?"

"And you are?" Iason inquired.

"I am Olivier, or the Chevalier, if you prefer mon _nom de guerre_," he said with a bit of flourish. "But to the question at hand. Shall we help these two out?"

He drew one sword, electricity crackling along the blade and struck out at the ice with a crack. This caused the pair inside to jump, one began moving about as a second strike proved enough to free the captive duo, which Fowler helped down and Iason healed of any damage. "Who are you?" he inquired.

"M-monica," she chattered, still cold. "We were looking for my cousin and some other kids, when things went wrong."

"I'd say, if you found yourself trapped in ice on the side of a barn while looking for children," Fowler noted while heating up Edgar's hands.

"No, they were kidnapped. We three were part of the rescue team," the speedster explained.

"Trois? Mon ami, I think you have not thawed enough? You are but deux?" the Chevalier corrected.

"No, Tracy is the ice," Monica explained to still confused looks.

"What do you mean, friends?" Iason pressed. No sooner had he asked than the rest of the ice cracked and fell free, landing in a large pile against the side of the barn.

"That's Tracy," Edgar said, went to the pile, and began rubbing the ice with incredible speed. It soon melted and reformed into a statuesque blonde. She gave Edgar an appreciative but dirty look.

"Sacre bleu!"

"Yeah, you're gonna be a fun one, aren't you?" she decided. "Where did Bennet, Petrelli, and the rest get to?"

"Which Petrelli?" Iason asked. "The younger man or his uncle, I believe the situation to be?"

"Either," she said.

"Our friends took the younger away after his friends were-well, I guess it doesn't matter, now?"

"What do you mean?"

Edgar called from around the front. "There's a lot of blood over here. Two pools, it seems," he called back.

"One of your friends was shot, the other stabbed, but they are better now, after my healing touch and-" Iason informed them.

"Are you three working with the older Petrelli and his cohorts?"" she eyed Fowler. "Weren't you in the barn in Tennessee?"

"Tennessee?"

"Tennessee. That's where we staged our rescue, tonight," she explained before realizing it was morning. "Wait, let me guess, we're in Europe? France?"

"The past few hours are a blur to me. They think UK," Fowler amended. "How did you know?"

"I used to work in DC. It pays to know the different time zones," she explained. "Which way to Peter?"

"This way, ma'am," Iason said, leading them away.

They soon found the back edge of the international group shepherding the quartet into a hangar. A bloodied Parkman and Bennet were just approaching them.

"No! It can't be!" Samson was saying. "I shot you dead! There is no way you could have survived!"

"Today is just full of surprises, isn't it?" he replied. "Now, I'll ask you one last time. Where are the children?"

Samson reached out to him. "Someplace you'll never find them." Parkman fell to his knees, struggling to stand, and was finally forced to the floor. Those nearby could hear bones start to snap.

"Stop it! You're killing him!" Bennet shouted.

Samson stopped pointing at Matt and turned to Noah. "Perhaps you won't fare as well as your fat friend, Bennet?"

"You will have to go through all of us," Bakari announced as several of the crowd took up aggressive stances.

Tim Petrelli stepped forward. "Face it, Noah, you've lost."

"This fight is far from over," Noah challenged.

"You have no powers," he reminded the man, "Your friend Parkman Junior may have a few surprises, but he can't last forever, and this rabble? Barely worth my time."

Behind them, Austin Linderman seemed to reassess their position. "Uh, guys?" He was ignored. Austin shook his head and snapped his fingers.

With Samson's attention on him distracted, and without the pressure of several tons of gravity forcing him down, Matt began to rise once more. "My name is Matt Parkman, _Senior_," he told them.

"What?" Samson and Tim said almost as one. They could hear bones snapping back into place inside the burly man as he got up.

Before anyone else could move, Petrelli went flying away from the others as Matt stood fully upright once more. He glared at Samson and grabbed the thick throat of the man he inhabited. "No more," he said and pulled Samson out of Bradley Green.

Green collapsed to the concrete floor and Samson Gray struggled to free himself from the grip of the man he had tried to kill twice in the last few minutes. He could see the most recent injuries finish healing before his eyes.

"You're not Parkman!" he gasped. Then he realized he had seen that stare before. "G-Gabriel?" he whispered. No one else heard his final word.

"Where are the children?"

Deprived of the sustenance of Green and his medications, Samson could feel his body quickly giving out from the stress of his forced body separation and instinctively cast a glance at the large man in brown before he passed out from the strain. Parkman dropped the frail old man and approached the Trojan.

"Where are they?"

The larger man smiled and drew back to hit Matt, but was knocked off his feet by a flying man. Peter Petrelli had returned to the fight. "My friend asked you a question."

Austin approached Bennet, who put up his fists, expecting a fight. Instead, he only said, "Remove his helmet."

Matt's head turned slightly, as if he had heard the power broker. Peter was already on the move and tore the helm away. Matt now found it easier to invade the man's mind. "I know where they are!" he announced, turning back to Bennet as Peter took some spare rebar rods and bent them around the mass (and massive) teleporter.

"If it would help, I just borrowed the Trojan's ability," Austin informed the others as he knelt to check Samson's pulse and shook his head. "The big man's not going anywhere, but I can take you to the kids."

"Why should we trust you?" Noah demanded.

Austin stood and shrugged. "I know you lot weren't really responsible for my father's death like I said." He pointed at Peter. "When I borrowed Petrelli's power set I saw the truth in his and your minds. My father dug his own grave. As for my wife?" He turned and glared at Tim. "I'll have enough vengeance -no, _justice_ for her soon enough," he warned the older Petrelli. "I saw who hit us, who killed her..._them_. No matter what I do, it won't bring my wife back, but at least I can rest easy knowing that one of their killers is dead, and the other won't be able to harm anyone else, any more."

"Vengeance is a dark road to walk," Matt warned.

Austin looked him over for a second. "Yeah, it's all about _redemption_ these days, isn't it? I'll play nice, take you to the kids, and we can work out the details of my punishment later," he offered. "What do you say?" he asked, holding out has hand. "Truce?"

Matt, Noah, and Peter shared looks, nodding. "For now," Noah said, then turned to the others. "Who wants to be in charge, here?"

Several of the assembled looked at Bakari and Raiden, and more than a few at Caduceus. "I only agreed to do this for a short while," Adom balked. "I have my own duties to get back to."

"As did I," Iason agreed. "I have people back home who need my help."

"If we are to do this, we must do it _now_, and as a team. No one person can or should have full control," Akihito noted. "We have seen what happens when only one is in charge," he motioned to the three fallen and Linderman.

"I just need someone right now to make sure these three don't go anywhere while we go rescue the kids," Noah explained. "Can you at least manage that? We'll talk more after."

The trio nodded. Noah thanked them and motioned to the side for Tracy, Monica, and Edgar to join them, where they had been watching this fight unfold. "Is this everybody, then?" Austin inquired of the sextet.

"I think so?" Noah said and glanced to Tracy, she nodded. "Then we're ready to get those kids back," he declared, watching Matt's reaction. He only allowed a small smirk as Parkman gave one last look at Samson's body before they left.

"Just in case, everyone hold hands," Austin requested as he concentrated and the seven of them felt a shift.

They blinked and realized they were somewhere else. Another house in another wooded area. They saw a military chopper pass overhead. "Did you see the markings?" Noah asked. "I can't hardly see without my glasses."

"It looked like one of yours, Noah?" Matt replied.

They heard a door slam. Turning almost as one, they saw a bearded man exit the house where they landed. "What's going on here?" he demanded. "Where's Petrelli? We barely escaped from those freak-" He stopped as he realized who he was facing. Next to the well dressed man were six people, four in tactical gear, two in costumes, including two bloody men. He had only singled out Linderman at first, but now recognized Tracy, Matt, Peter, and Noah. "Oh no."

"Oh _yes_," Matt replied.

"Mr. Bennet, I understand that the good Reverend here had a deal with Mr. Petrelli, uh, CodeStone?" Austin informed the group, clarifying Tim from his nephew Peter. "I was told his payment for this venture would that he would get all of the abilities of the children he sequestered? Seeing as how my ability is the transfer of other abilities, I was tasked, in part, to finalize the deal."

"Well, isn't that special?" Matt said, approaching him. "What do you have to say for yourself, Reverend?"

"You are abominations!" he shouted. "I was saving these children from a lifetime of hatred and-"

Matt socked him in the jaw. Carpenter went down like a sack of potatoes.

"What did you say your name was? Carpenter?" Matt goaded him. "I recall a story of another carpenter who was also a leader of men. A preacher, if you will. The only difference between him and you? He didn't preach hate or destroy lives to accumulate any kind of power." Matt reached out and grabbed his head. "Why can't you do the same? _Do good. Be good._" he pushed. With that, he stood and strode into the house, Tracy and Monica hot on his heels.

Matt held the door for the ladies as they entered. All three were ready for a fight. What they found surprised even them. Barbara and her three farmhands were setting food on the table. The missing children were seated before them, patiently waiting to eat, looking like they had just woken up. She looked up and into her twin's eyes. "Hello. It's finally nice to meet you."

"What's going on here?" Monica asked, seeing Micah help set the table with Colleen as the twins entertained Matt Junior in his highchair.

"Breakfast. Won't you please join us?" Barbara invited them. "I'm sure we have tons to discuss." She looked pointedly at her long lost sister.

"Aren't you worried about your husband?" Tracy asked.

Barbara gave a sad sigh and shook her head. "Not anymore. He has dug his own grave, forced me into doing many things I regret. Now that I don't have to suffer under him, I- if you will let me, I-I want to testify against him for all his crimes. Our crimes." She looked pointedly at Matt. "Even the ones I regret most."

Matt ignored her as he crossed the room and picked up Matty. "Hello, little man. It's been a while, hasn't it? I know there are some people anxious to see you," he beamed.

Matty gave the man an odd look, then cooed.

Behind them, Noah Bennet entered the dining area and glared at the pair from across the room. Matt hugged the baby as he turned to see Bennet's stare. He nodded.

Matt hugged him once more and set the baby back down in his high chair. "Boys?"

"Nathan and Kyle," they replied in unison.

Matt paused at their chorus. "Yeah. Right. You three seem to have bonded. Could you keep an eye on him for me a while longer while Mr. Bennet and I wrap things up, outside?" he asked. "I'd really appreciate it."

They agreed and gave both men strange looks as they left. They kept secret what the man had asked of them mentally, as he left.

Outside, they met up with Peter, Edgar, and Linderman, standing over Carpenter. "Peter asked me to do a recon sweep," Edgar explained. "We're maybe a mile from the Carpenter house, through the woods, that way," he pointed in the direction the chopper had gone. "Director Parkman is on his way. He gave me a comm to give to you," he said, handing over the radio.

"Isn't that interesting?" Noah said, eyeing Carpenter. "Peter, Edgar, it seems as if Barbara won't be putting up a fight. Why don't you go in the house and keep an eye on things? Make sure the kids are okay and fed. Matt and I will escort Mr. Linderman and the Reverend through the woods to our friends."

The two men exchanged slightly confused glances, then agreed. "Keep an eye on my boy until I get back. Those twins are keeping him amused," Matt asked Peter, who nodded.

"So, are we doing this, then?" Linderman asked, holding his hands out, wrists together, as if they were going to cuff him.

Matt hauled Carpenter to his feet. "Yes. March."

"I have lawyers and money!" Carpenter protested as they hiked, nearing the ruins of his house. "I'll be out in no time!"

Matt shoved him forward, bumping him into Linderman. "That's what they always say," he replied, then stopped as Carpenter turned and fired, striking him twice in the heart.

"My gun!" Linderman shouted, hand reaching for his under jacket holster where he had placed Bennet's confiscated gun earlier, only to find it empty.

Noah had a different reaction, tackling Carpenter and wresting the gun away. He slammed the man's head into a tree for good measure.

Moments later, soldiers came bursting through the trees. Maury Parkman was among them. "What happened here? We heard gunshots?" he demanded. Then he saw the body on the ground. "M-Matt? Matty? No. no-no-no-no-no! _NNOOO!_" he screamed, cradling the lifeless form to him. "Forgive me, Matty, I'm so sorry," he cried. "_Please, forgive me!_"

Noah stepped forward as the soldiers scrambled to secure the other two men and the gun. Linderman went willingly, Carpenter not so much. "Maury, I'm so sorry. We got the kids. Barbara didn't even put up a fight. Matty, your grandson, he's fine."

Maury didn't hear him as sobbed over the body of his son in the Tennessee dawn's breaking light.

* * *

><p><strong>Helix Base<strong>

Matt woke up in a dark, confined space. It was hot. He soon realized that was more his own body heat creating the warmth than anything else. He felt around for some idea of where he was when he nearly hit his head on the doorknob while trying to get up. He bit his tongue, unaware of who might be listening. He cautiously opened the door and found-

Hiro Nakamura sat on Matt's bed, watching him crawl out from his closet.

This Hiro looked older than Matt remembered, didn't he? No, wait, this was the same Hiro from in Pete's head, wasn't it? Matt now realized he looked different in there, more mature. Definitely more experienced than the young amnesiac man who had thrown corn at him outside Daphne's home or the one who had disappeared from his bed not too long ago. "What?"

"What?"

Matt's head was starting to hurt. "What?!" he repeated, rubbing his temple.

"Allons-y?" Hiro offered, then handed Matt a thick manila envelope.

"Huh?"

A loud explosion outside distracted the duo for a moment, shaking the entire building. Hiro went to the window, looking out into the dark night.

"What was that?"

"Pulsar."

Matt had missed Dan Walters' introduction to the media, so was oblivious to the reference. "What?"

"Anywhere in time and space. Where do you want to start?"

"No, seriously, _what?!"_

Hiro sighed and grabbed Matt's hand. "Come with me if you want to live." The pair disappeared as a window rattling roar shook the base complex.

Below them, in the rec room, Violet and Molly shuddered in fright before Violet ordered William and Sally to protect the other two. "I'll be right back," she said, drawn to the sound of the roar over Sally's protestations. She dreaded calling Director Parkman again, so soon.

Violet Walters strode past various military, who were busy trying to figure out why another man had come crashing into their base only a few days after the first. This impact crater was much deeper, however, and they could see and hear that this one was still moving. Barely.

"Miss, you can't be here! It's too dangerous!" someone tried to warn her.

"Who's in charge?" she demanded. When the soldier started to protest and drag her to safety, she pulled away and headed for what appeared to be the vehicle people were swarming to and from. "I can help!" she yelled, but was ignored. "That's my father down there!" she announced. A few soldiers stopped and stared.

"I'll take her down, you scaredy-cats!" came a voice from behind her.

Within minutes, she found herself strapped to Daniel Bloom and rappelling down into the crater toward her father. His roars had died down and his body lay at an odd angle. When he saw them, he tried to roar again, but it was obvious it was causing him pain.

"Don't get too close!" Bloom warned her as they reached the bottom, keeping his tranq rifle aimed at the muscled behemoth.

She ignored him and knelt beside her father. He whimpered at her touch, obviously clinging to the last bit of knowledge that she meant him no harm. Instinctively, she straightened out his body as best she could, then hugged his chest. "It's okay, dad. It's going to be okay," she told him.

"What's going on down there?" the squad commander demanded over the comm.

Daniel stood amazed as Walters began to shrink, returning to his previous, normal appearance.

"I think she cured him?" he reported back, starting to take his jacket off to lay over the man clad only in his shredded singlet. "We need an evac stretcher down here, right away!" he informed those up on the rim. Jimmy "Stick" Smith had already been called in to create a support rigging to do just that.

* * *

><p><strong>Three days later, Los Angeles<strong>

Maury Parkman had convinced the Albrecht family to allow their children to be buried together in a family plot once they had proven to them Matt wasn't responsible for Janice's death. Her father, Lawrence, and brother only allowed it after viewing the video confession of Barbara Zimmerman. Karen was still too distraught after learning Matt Jr. had died of an allergic reaction within hours of the rescue, as Bennet claimed.

The LAPD had sent their own escort to honor Matt's service, despite his questionable departure(s) from said service. Even Matt's captain from his brief NYPD stay turned up, among many other departments paying respects to one of their fallen officers.

Between the Helix Base broadcast and numerous interviews from the international group praising his actions; a now-viral video of Carpenter rocking in his cell chanting "Do Good. Be Good."; as well as the tragic circumstances of his and his son's deaths that day, Matt Parkman had become an unwitting martyr for the outcast and disaffected, Special or not. He had simply been a man trying to do the right thing and save his son.

As such, the media frenzy clogged the streets and to spare the family further heartache, the Albrechts agreed to cremation and spread the ashes at a favorite spot of the couple. Karen argued for doing it at the lake house, but Lawrence had already decided to sell it because of the taint of their personal losses there, as well as preventing it from becoming a 'scene of the crime shrine', especially after realizing the growing fallout of Matt's actions.

Outside the service, Daniel Bloom caught sight of his captain standing near the usual handful of idiotic and hateful protestors, who pulled him aside and threatened charges of collusion with a known traitor. Bloom laughed him off. "Personally, Houk? I quit. I've been offered a better gig than under your Podunk backwards ass," he informed the man. He secretly was glad he had decided against wearing his uniform at the last minute, and even more now that Houk probably would have torn his badge off had he worn it.

"What, with the LAPD?" Houk accused, catching the attention of several officers nearby. "I'll tell them what a disgrace to the uniform you really are, Bloom!"

One of the local officers started to approach the pair. "Let it go, McHenry. Not here. Don't disgrace Matt's memory like that idiot," John Cooper advised his cohort as Lydia Adams blocked her fellow detective from making a scene. Tom kept his retort to himself, the recent news and funeral tearing him up even more, considering his personal connections to the deceased couple.

"Even better, Houk," Bloom said. "They saw I was willing to give Matt a chance, that I helped out while the world was turning upside down and _wasn't_ freaked out by it all," he told the other man. "They want me to be a part of the Helix Base team. I'm going to be working with Specials, making the world a _better_ place for my kids. Not tearing it down with petty accusations like some."

Bloom left the other man speechless as he rejoined his wife, Rodney James, and the temporarily wheelchair bound Bradley Green and Dan Walters and his daughter Violet, Rodney pushing Brad and Violet assisting Bloom with her father's motorized chair.

The two Dan's had caught Tom and Cooper's reaction, Bloom nodded his thanks as he passed, and Walters gave him a quick salute and a wink. Cooper did a double take at that. Had the man just made a pass at him? All he caught of their conversation as they left was that Rodney had plans for turning Dan's chair into a hovertank with various add-ons like mobile medical bay or a helicopter propeller as the man tried to laugh him off.

The rest of the service went off without a hitch. The Albrechts allowed Maury and Molly to sit in the front row of mourners with them, with Brad, Mohinder, Noah, Claire, Peter, Angela, Hiro, Monica, Micah, Tracy, and Audrey close behind.

During the service, Molly took it upon herself to approach the dais with their urns and place the "My Hero" drawing she had made for Matt after they had first met on his urn. The rabbi only paused in his sermon to thank her. Lawrence gave her a warm smile, but Karen looked away, pretending not to have seen her "blatant and heinous" interruption she would call it later. Her thoughts on finding out someone took a picture of this action that briefly went viral were even less kind.

Afterward, Bennet had arranged with the LAPD to fake out the media and split up the procession to the announced site the family was going to spread the ashes and the real one. Two cars, one for the Albrecht's (driven by McHenry), one for the Parkman's (driven by Cooper), would peel off from the main procession so they could disperse the family's ashes in peace at the real location.

After scattering the ashes in private, Maury apologized once more for what had happened and wished his in-laws well. Karen called him a bastard and slapped him hard before Lawrence pulled her away. "I lost a son, too!" he called after her. "I never even saw my grandson while he was alive!" he cried. Lawrence gave him a sad nod of understanding after he and his son had helped his wife get in their car. Mohinder pulled Maury back to their car with Molly and Brad, taking a moment to say a final goodbye to his friend, hoping his spirit was finally at peace.

* * *

><p><strong>Two weeks later<strong>, the friends reunited under better circumstances for the wedding of Kimiko Nakamura and Ando Masahashi. Hiro proudly walked his sister down the aisle. During the ceremony, Ando insisted they all take a moment to remember the loved ones who could not be with them that day, partly in memory of Kaito and Ishi Nakamura, partly for the loss of such friends as Matt, his namesake, and Daphne, among many others, although no names were said during this minute of reflection.

Afterward at the reception, Noah and Peter pulled Hiro aside, asking him how he was doing. Hiro explained how he had accidentally time traveled to the past again and had spent a few years healing and training as a samurai. He refused to name his Sensei, but assured them it had not been Adam Monroe. He also asked them to once again send Molly, Mohinder, and Maury his condolences on the loss of Matt Sr. and Jr. Peter thanked him before Claire pulled him back onto the dance floor.

"What news from America, my friend? Is all going well?" he inquired of Bennet.

"We're holding together better than some. The eight man Canadian team has already fractured, with the leader of the original quintet splitting from the rest and working with their three newer Specials after some private dispute. Word is, Vox had already been talking of defecting to the international team in the UK due to some dalliance with one of their members? I'm not sure if that's just gossip or not?"

Hiro nodded, waved to some friends, then watched Peter and Claire dancing. "He still does not know the truth," he said to Noah confidentially.

Noah shook his head. "No, that will be a secret between the three of us." He mentally corrected himself _four._

"Three? I did not think Maury Parkman was aware of the truth?"

"If he is, he's in denial. You know who I mean."

Hiro nodded, realizing his error. "What of Molly?"

"Mohinder has agreed to release her to live with a friend until she's older, for her own safety and well-being," he replied. "We'll keep tabs on her, then when she turns eighteen, she can decide what she wants to do with her life."

"And the others?"

"We've kept the identities of the rescued children secret from the media, save for the unfortunate Matthew Jr, obviously. Monica and Tracy have agreed to share custody of Micah for now. The other children have been returned to their families, save for the twins who were orphaned when their mother was killed when she left the carnival, Edgar tells me. She never shared who their father is, and there's no record of his name on their birth certificates. One of our newer agents is looking after them until more permanent arrangements can be made," he explained. "We've already been in discussions for a school for the younger Specials, but it may be a while, yet, unfortunately."

"As for the, well, _villains_ behind the last few weeks. Perpetrators, I guess? Tracy Strauss will be her sister's keeper, with Barbara working for us as part of her work release punishment," he explained. "Maury isn't that happy with the arrangement, but seeing as he is the only one to keep her ability in check besides Peter, and she _is_ truly sorry for her actions, especially concerning the Parkmans, it's probably for the best. Her main defense was Carpenter's spousal abuse and forcing her to assist him in his crimes against her will as a reluctant accomplice," he recounted. "The other locals she used her ability on to persuade into helping them, like their farmhand family the O'Briens, barely remember what they did, which was actually looking after the safekeeping of the children. Therefore, we've asked no charges be brought against them by local authorities," he explained.

"What of the other Petrelli and Sylar?"

"Peter's uncle Tim had no ability of his own other than talking to roaches," he smirked. "He'll be facing a lengthy incarceration, I'm told. His other abilities were only temporarily borrowed courtesy of Austin Linderman, Daniel's son. Austin, like Barbara, is putting his ability to better use with the international team he was ordered to bring together," he explained. "As for the Grays, Samson's body gave out after he was removed from Matt's friend, Brad. He was already living on borrowed time with his cancer. Gabriel went back and cremated him, just in case."

"Where is he now?"

Bennet smirked. "Whenever you have a public face for something, you also have a private face."

"He is still working for the Company?"

"He and Peter are turning out to be pretty good drill instructors for our trainee Specials, along with Upstart," he admitted. "When he isn't being given a private mission or two."

Hiro's eyes narrowed. "Do I want to know?"

Bennet smiled again. "Actually, in this case, he's been tasked with a more private matter. You read the report on my 'son' Lyle? Gabriel has been tasked with finding him and the missing members of the Tennessee Rescue Incident, ours and theirs."

Hiro nodded understanding.

"What are _your_ plans, now, Mr. Nakamura?"

"I will keep Dial-a-Hero going, offering my services to others, only not using -or _abusing_- my powers in doing so, as I originally planned," he explained. "I was also planning on being the local center for Specials in Japan and this part of the world. I have already been in contact with Mohinder about a working arrangement. He has made me aware of a few others in India and elsewhere in Southeast Asia."

Noah raised his drink. "Well then, here's to many bright new tomorrows, my friend," he toasted.

Hiro smirked. "Yatta!"

* * *

><p>Next - Epilogue<p>

A/N: Matt sings Barenaked Ladies' "Take it Back" to Molly. It happened to be playing on my ipod and seemed appropriate for the moment. The CD, "Barenaked Ladies Are Me" (aka BLAM) came out around the time s2 aired, so it seemed doubly appropriate.

I fleshed out Janice's family as the "Albrecht's" in another story, only adding her brother here, who is mentioned in s4 in passing as a possible job lead for Matt. (He owns/runs a computer store?)

I also reference the addition of SouthLAnd's John Cooper to the Company in my other stories with his cameo appearance here (alongside Lydia and Matt's former friend/sparring partner Det. Tom McHenry from s1 as recounted in the Orenda chapter), since SouthLAnd started on NBC, and Parkman was the then-only other LAPD officer represented on TV. I also tossed a nod at Cooper's budding relationship with Dan Walters in those stories. Which I may finish. Someday. Maybe? If only to expand on the rosters of other teams here? Heh.

12/25/12


	19. Ch18 Epilogue

HEROES - Volume 6: Brave New World

Chapter 18: Epilogue

Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable characters, just playing with Tim Kring's toys.

A/N - show canon; GN semi-canon/references. A couple OCs.

* * *

><p><strong>Epilogue I<strong>

**Helix Base**

Hiro teleported back into his last location on the base, but found the room deserted, the medical devices shut down, and broken window glass scattered on the floor.

He made a stop at the empty nurse's station to confirm the date, before exploring further. The entire floor was empty. Venturing downward, he found the entire building seemed empty, but he could hear an amplified voice coming from outside. As he approached the front doors, a voice called out behind him.

"Hello, Hiro."

The young samurai spun and drew his sword. "I have been training. I have no more fear of you," he warned.

"Haven't you heard? I'm working for the good guys, now," Gabriel Gray explained, leaning against a wall. "I'd tell you to ask Peter, but he's busy at the moment. In fact, follow me, I have something to show you."

"This is a trick?"

"No tricks, just a treat," he said, motioning Hiro to follow. He led the other man back upstairs to a front corner office again with it's windows shattered. "Can you hear?"

"What happened here?"

"Hm? Oh, Samuel Sullivan woke up and caused some trouble. I wouldn't worry about him right now. Listen," he pointed towards a small crowd just visible around the corner.

Hiro kept his sword drawn. "What is happening? Am I in the future again? Have we lost?"

Gabriel shrugged. "You missed Sullivan, yesterday, that's about it since you disappeared," he said. "And will you please put that sword away, before you put someone's eye out, waving it around like that?"

Hiro shook his head.

"Fine, just listen," he urged and pointed out the window.

He strained to hear, but the words were muffled over the distance. "What's going on?"

Gabriel shrugged. "News crew caught the damage Sullivan caused. Maury Parkman and Noah Bennet decided to make the Specials training here public. Russia, China, a few others had already done the same, if you haven't heard. Maury says they were supposed to wait for everyone else, though."

"What?"

"Something about a show of international cooperation or something?" he said casually. "You know how governments work, they always have to have the bigger, better guns," he smirked.

"I should join them," he insisted.

"You're not American."

"You are not a hero, like me," he challenged.

"I did my part against Sullivan, in Central Park and yesterday," Gray noted, glancing back out the window. "Currently, I'm working for Noah."

"I'm- wait, what?"

"Would you like to help?" he smiled.

Hiro eyed him warily. "How do I know I can trust you?"

"You can't, but it is a simple task I'm asking."

"What? Deliver a letter, take a friend somewhere."

"Who?"

Gabriel Gray held up a thick manila envelope and smiled once more.

"How do I know this is not a trick?"

Gabriel sighed and held up the latest series of Doctor Who as an incentive. An instant later, Hiro was gone and Gray's hands were empty.

* * *

><p><strong>Epilogue II<strong>

**I-64, an hour west of Louisville**

"You and your friend don't say much, do ya?" the trucker inquired in his southern drawl.

"He's mute," the boy snapped.

"I noticed he hasn't done much of anything unless you ordered him to?"

"You talk to much."

"Boy, I am doing you a favor by letting you ride in my rig," the trucker scowled. "The police give big fines for picking up hitchers, these days."

"I'm doing you a favor by letting you keep your mind," he warned.

Hank gave him a leery side glance. "You what?"

"Just shut up and get me to Nevada."

"Boy, I done told you, they shut down that Area 51 nonsense after the internet drew too much attention to it!" he scolded the boy. "Don't you listen to Coast 2 Coast?"

"That's just what _they_ want you to think," Lyle Bennet sneered. "Trust me, I know better. Once I get there, I'll have a whole army for my revenge!"

Hank shook his head. "Crazy kid. I told you I'll take you as far as St. Louis, but then I'm headed for- huh?"

A black SUV crossed lanes and swung too close in front of the 18 wheeler, causing Hank to downshift. "Crazy mother-! Don't these idjits know these big rigs can't stop on a dime?!"

His rant stopped short as the back windshield of the vehicle rolled down. A rifle barrel emerged from inside.

"Evasive action!" Lyle shouted, jumping for the wheel, but Hank pushed him off.

"Get off me!"

_Ping! Ping!_

"What in tarnation-?" he started to say, but then saw the SUV's back window slide back up. He was about to say something to the boy and his silent friend, when he glanced over to see they weren't moving. The passenger side windshield was now spider webbed with cracks, the wind whistling through one dime sized hole. There was a red trickle coming out of the left eye socket of both Lyle and Polsky.

Hank looked back at the SUV only to see it speed ahead and take the next exit at Santa Claus, IN.

"Dammit, not again!" he grumbled to the corpses. "Why do I always get the crazies? My damned insurance better pay for that window this time, too!" He grabbed the CB mike off the dash. "This is Singer, I got me another pair of ShaG '87s, headed west on 64, I just passed North Pole. Can I get a little maid service out here? Holler back!"

* * *

><p><strong>Epilogue III<strong>

**Somewhere along the coast**

Patrick Markham looked out his kitchen window. The grass would need cutting this afternoon, he realized. _Better sharpen the blades after I finish my coffee._ He had begun to enjoy this simple life. Peace and quiet was all he wanted now. The only thing that would make this perfect would be-

No.

That life was _over_. Everything was behind him. Everything. There would never be any going back to that life. It was time to start over. No ties to the past. He finished his coffee in one gulp, then headed out to the garden shed to sharpen that blade.

An hour later, the mower was back together, gassed, oiled, and ready to go. He pushed it out to the corner he decided to start with today when he caught the flash of light off a car coming up the road. He paused. No one else was supposed to be driving down this road. He wiped his hands on the shop towel and reluctantly walked around to the front corner of the house, scratching at his week old scruff.

The car had tinted windows, but he could still see several people inside as it pulled up to his house.

He knew who the driver was before he turned off the engine.

"You shouldn't be here," he warned.

"You can't run forever," the newcomer said.

"Get out. Leave and never come back here again, or I'll-"

"I brought her. And _him_."

Patrick's face tightened. "I...I can't. No."

"Tell _her_ that," he said and motioned to the car.

Markham turned away. He couldn't face her, not after everything that happened. "I said _no._"

With one word, she broke his resolve. "Dad?"

He turned to face her, tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry."

She went to him and hugged his waist tight. "I missed you."

He hesitated to put his hand on her head, to comfort her. "I-I know. I'm sorry."

She pulled back. "What's wrong? Aren't you glad to see us?"

He glanced to the other man. "I-I can't. I'm sorry. You can't stay."

He might as well have slapped her. "W-what?"

"You can't stay here. Not with me. Y-you can't."

"Why not?"

He turned away and went to the backyard. He sat down on the picnic table. The man and girl followed.

"Why can't we stay?" she demanded, sitting next to him.

He fought the urge to get back up. To get away from her. He glanced to the other man again, his stern look of disapproval.

"I'm...I'm no good for you. Ever since you came into my life, it's been one disaster after another. I can't take that, anymore. I'm sorry."

She reached up and turned his prickly chin so he had to look at her. "You _saved_ me."

"I- you- what?"

"You saved me, you big dummy."

He glanced up to the other man, who only turned away. The other occupants of the car came around the corner. "W-what is this-?"

Nathan carried the car seat. Kyle held the hand of the toddler.

"_Dada!_" the baby giggled.

If the girl hadn't broken his resolve, his son surely broke his heart as he dropped to his knees to greet his namesake. He knew he was a blubbering mess as he hugged his child tight.

She reached over and placed a hand on his head. He pulled her into the hug, as well. After a minute, he glanced up and saw the twins standing there.

"What are you two waiting for?" he asked. "I'm stuck with all of you, ain't I?" he smirked, pulling them into the group hug, as well. "All for one and one for all, right?"

A minute later, the slam of metal on metal distracted him and he looked up to see the other man had pulled all of their belongings out of the trunk and was now climbing back behind the wheel.

"Excuse me a minute guys?" he said, finally breaking the hug and giving chase to the other man with his son on his hip. "Four kids at once? You trying to drive me insane?" he asked, putting his free hand on the door as he leaned over to talk to the driver.

"You can do it. I believe in you," he said, putting his hand over the other man's in assurance. "Don't worry. She'll be running the place in no time."

"I don't- I just-" he fumbled.

"You're welcome. _Patrick_," he winked. _Not much of a change, but not my choice, is it?_ he projected.

_Blame Noah, and his friend who can alter features,_ he replied before saying "Thanks, Dan, just...thank you."

"Don't thank me yet. I'm sending the rest of their stuff COD," he smiled. "Watch your back, man."

"You, too, and...thanks."

Patrick stood back to let the other man leave, making his son wave bye-bye as he drove off.

_Best of luck to you, Matt_, Daniel Bloom thought as he drove off...his features dissolving to one the other man was more familiar with.

_Thank you, Gabriel_, Patrick Markham thought back.

* * *

><p><strong>End Volume Six.<strong>

* * *

><p>= )<p>

( -

12/25/12


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